Elbow - K2 lyrics
[Elbow - K2 lyrics]
I’m imagining rippling fingers on keys
Miming it wild on a cold stone table
Picturing and wishing for home
And jiggling my knees send an urgent cable
Dickhead’s done a runner and he’s
Wondering if anyone cares
Is the landing light on
Back to the pebbles that
Mum’s eggs hatched in give me her perfume
Give me her prayers and advice
Hands up if you’ve never seen the sea
I’m from a land with an island status
Makes us think that everyone hates us
Maybe darling they do
But they haven’t met you
They only know the villains at the tiller
And they gambled the farm on a headline
Jesus getting harder to see what they’re
Doing ‘til it’s done
And they’re never gonna make an
Arrest on Fleet Street
Yes and I’m given to believing in love
I’ve written the word in my blood
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand
I’ve been asleep in the woods
With a mother to be
Planning on a static caravan in the Andes
Making a break with the steel
Magpie on the rise defeat in our time
Or do we meet on the street
Again due to the few?
Batter it out and refresh vendetta
Better surely to pause, consider the path
It’s full of blood
Snot and teeth and the glory of no one
Hands up if you’ve never seen the sea
We’re from a place with an island status
Queuing round the corner for a
Pencil and paper again
Come the virus of virii
God send us to a digital end
With following strangers and
Swiping at friends
I’ll send you a postcard, see you in Hull
In a sweater made of Atacama llama wool
Yes and I’m given to believing in love
I’ve written the word in my blood
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand
Yes and I’m given to believing in love
I’ve written the word in my blood
I’ve seen it make a heaven of
Backstreet, bedsit and bomb site
Living room love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand to slip into the hand
Miming it wild on a cold stone table
Picturing and wishing for home
And jiggling my knees send an urgent cable
Dickhead’s done a runner and he’s
Wondering if anyone cares
Is the landing light on
Back to the pebbles that
Mum’s eggs hatched in give me her perfume
Give me her prayers and advice
Hands up if you’ve never seen the sea
I’m from a land with an island status
Makes us think that everyone hates us
Maybe darling they do
But they haven’t met you
They only know the villains at the tiller
And they gambled the farm on a headline
Jesus getting harder to see what they’re
Doing ‘til it’s done
And they’re never gonna make an
Arrest on Fleet Street
Yes and I’m given to believing in love
I’ve written the word in my blood
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand
I’ve been asleep in the woods
With a mother to be
Planning on a static caravan in the Andes
Making a break with the steel
Magpie on the rise defeat in our time
Or do we meet on the street
Again due to the few?
Batter it out and refresh vendetta
Better surely to pause, consider the path
It’s full of blood
Snot and teeth and the glory of no one
Hands up if you’ve never seen the sea
We’re from a place with an island status
Queuing round the corner for a
Pencil and paper again
Come the virus of virii
God send us to a digital end
With following strangers and
Swiping at friends
I’ll send you a postcard, see you in Hull
In a sweater made of Atacama llama wool
Yes and I’m given to believing in love
I’ve written the word in my blood
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand
Yes and I’m given to believing in love
I’ve written the word in my blood
I’ve seen it make a heaven of
Backstreet, bedsit and bomb site
Living room love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand to slip into the hand