The Space Between All Things.

All the walls of your house,
were painted in deep blue,
you're at that indecisive age to choose colours that reflect you.
And everything and nothing,
is in the space between all things,
that fascinates as much as it agitates.

Words turn me into what I say,
as you pull your yellow stained fingers,
through your un-kept hair,
I noticed that the corners of your jeans,
were folded neatly into squares.
Your thoughts are the strangest place that you've ever been,
stranger even than Los Angeles,
it's like a cinema where they never ask you to leave.

She had a north Atlantic film star grace,
that's why her tears are out of place,
that kind sadness has more style,
so nothing will make her smile,
except as soon as anything happens,
she'll drag me on the street,
and hand in hand we stand protesting,
while everyone is still asleep.


words by Roddy Woomble, performed by Idlewild.