Whisper
from Measured In Moons by Kate Crowley
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about
One could encounter just about anything or anyone on Collingwood’s beautiful freak, Smith Street.
lyrics
Midday on a Thursday, on smith st Collingwood
Im retracing my steps through the wayward old neighbourhood
The corner’s looking lonely, mob’s not out today
The talk in the post office is of the moon last night
And how it bought the crazies
This whole towns fucking crazy
No it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Oh no it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Im walking past the park bench see the crazy drunk Irishman
He looks at me and screams “hey girl, you ever been to Galway?”
Well what a girl to say
I said of course I been to Galway
I’ve been to Dublin, to Cork and all the way back to Galway bay
No it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Oh no it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
It's the kind of place where you scream it out red faced
With that taste in your mouth
That taste in your mouth
And that stain on your blouse
So I sit down on the park bench and ask ”are you homesick?”
He said “ill spit this out real quick, I need I need a woman’s perspective”
“OK you’ll have to be more clear you see, a woman’s perspective, the concepts just endless”
I turn to go he grabs my hand
His name is Frank he says
“and her name is Maggie and I love her”
I said “I’ll spread the word”
Guess I’ll be late for work
No it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Oh no, it’s not the kind of place, where you whisper
It's the kind of place where you scream it out red faced
With that taste in your mouth
That taste in your mouth
And that big ugly stain on your blouse
Many moons ago I lived above he pub down the road
Fewer moons ago I lived below the road
Underground
Trying to cut out some sound
But it’s not that kind of place
Im retracing my steps through the wayward old neighbourhood
The corner’s looking lonely, mob’s not out today
The talk in the post office is of the moon last night
And how it bought the crazies
This whole towns fucking crazy
No it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Oh no it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Im walking past the park bench see the crazy drunk Irishman
He looks at me and screams “hey girl, you ever been to Galway?”
Well what a girl to say
I said of course I been to Galway
I’ve been to Dublin, to Cork and all the way back to Galway bay
No it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Oh no it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
It's the kind of place where you scream it out red faced
With that taste in your mouth
That taste in your mouth
And that stain on your blouse
So I sit down on the park bench and ask ”are you homesick?”
He said “ill spit this out real quick, I need I need a woman’s perspective”
“OK you’ll have to be more clear you see, a woman’s perspective, the concepts just endless”
I turn to go he grabs my hand
His name is Frank he says
“and her name is Maggie and I love her”
I said “I’ll spread the word”
Guess I’ll be late for work
No it’s not the kind of place where you whisper
Oh no, it’s not the kind of place, where you whisper
It's the kind of place where you scream it out red faced
With that taste in your mouth
That taste in your mouth
And that big ugly stain on your blouse
Many moons ago I lived above he pub down the road
Fewer moons ago I lived below the road
Underground
Trying to cut out some sound
But it’s not that kind of place
credits
from Measured In Moons,
released March 10, 2014
Kate Crowley – vocals, guitar
Todd Mayhew – banjo
Rebecca Harris – piano
Hugh McDonald – octave mandolin
Kate Crowley – vocals, guitar
Todd Mayhew – banjo
Rebecca Harris – piano
Hugh McDonald – octave mandolin
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Kate Crowley Melbourne, Australia
"With a voice like a force of nature, an effortlessly compelling presence, and a repertoire of finally honed gems, Kate Crowley will have even the soberest punter well intoxicated by the evenings end."
discography
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Mar 2014 -
Nov 2009
contact / help
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