Flipside >>
--- Everything But The Girl
If anyone is wondering, Spurn Point, or Spurn Head,
mentioned in these lyrics, forms part of the estuary of the river Humber,
on the north bank of which stands EBTG's home city, Hull.
London, Summer '92 - I think I've changed a lot since then, do you?
Ideas that I've held for years, emotional baggage, hopes and fears, seen
somehow in a different light, not as wrong, but not as right as they
seemed before. Was I different then? Have I changed? And will I change
again? I'm thinking of a mental free-fall, a partial total memory recall
like what of the future, what of the past, what of the present will
last? And say I did forget and revert to the old ways, forget this hurt,
am I better off or in reverse, untaught by experience and therefore
worse? I mean a lot. I mean a little. I'm like a coastline, a beach
and spit - Spurn Point and the rest of it. The sea, the tide, the salt
and foam, I'm the blasted land, the sand shifting, drifting out and back,
then breached, drowned, defences down, rebuilt from this day on. Or
maybe not, maybe my moment's gone. I mean a lot. I mean a little. Am I
same person I seemed to be? Does all of this depress me? I won't
listen, I won't talk. A weightless life, I moonwalk. I mean a lot. I
mean a little. I'm supple, brittle, pig in the middle. There's
resilience inside my face, but sometimes nothing. Deep space. What I
feel and what I fear is always here - my atmosphere. Piggy in the
middle. I mean a lot. I mean a little.
Flipside >>
--- Everything But The Girl
If anyone is wondering, Spurn Point, or Spurn Head,
mentioned in these lyrics, forms part of the estuary of the river Humber,
on the north bank of which stands EBTG's home city, Hull.
London, Summer '92 - I think I've changed a lot since then, do you?
Ideas that I've held for years, emotional baggage, hopes and fears, seen
somehow in a different light, not as wrong, but not as right as they
seemed before. Was I different then? Have I changed? And will I change
again? I'm thinking of a mental free-fall, a partial total memory recall
like what of the future, what of the past, what of the present will
last? And say I did forget and revert to the old ways, forget this hurt,
am I better off or in reverse, untaught by experience and therefore
worse? I mean a lot. I mean a little. I'm like a coastline, a beach
and spit - Spurn Point and the rest of it. The sea, the tide, the salt
and foam, I'm the blasted land, the sand shifting, drifting out and back,
then breached, drowned, defences down, rebuilt from this day on. Or
maybe not, maybe my moment's gone. I mean a lot. I mean a little. Am I
same person I seemed to be? Does all of this depress me? I won't
listen, I won't talk. A weightless life, I moonwalk. I mean a lot. I
mean a little. I'm supple, brittle, pig in the middle. There's
resilience inside my face, but sometimes nothing. Deep space. What I
feel and what I fear is always here - my atmosphere. Piggy in the
middle. I mean a lot. I mean a little.