Spanish Trails

by Baker Island

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1.
They build their statues in print and in self portraits Chipped my hands falling and detailing career moves The thing that thinks it's a house is in fact a skyscraper Sport, can I get my fitness back on top form She made your bones give up their secrets As smoke leaves one mouth and another Through the penthouse window ledge Wasted what seems like a decade waiting for, nay Expecting buildings to crumble but, oh, they won't They'll utter insular mumbles as the underground rumbles above And suddenly you pretend you've always loved 1992 Never 1979 Where's your little leather jacket now? Let me start again in what seems like just a month The stones and grit that choke everything still exist here The thing that thinks it's a house is in fact a skyscraper And when you focus, you focus on the fireplace Countess speaks in tongues Folks can rummage, folks can learn It's not a house, it's a skyscraper
2.
You said "fuck" in every song you wrote You said it was to prove a point But I'm still not sure just what that point Just what that point was From a town with no sea A, b, c, d, e Not for now Not for never But I've got an idea Not for now Not for never And you heard that it's tried And it's true and when the rat comes round No lips or teeth You think "that's what I'll do" There's four letters and five to go Forgive my memory Did I say there's four letters, five to go? It must be oh so hard for you Saving the world with not one pill but two And in those little shoes You picked up in a vegan cafe that is run by your friends I'm a doctor, I'm a doctor And don't you ever ever forget this I'm a doctor, I'm a doctor And I will never let you forget this I'm a doctor, I'm a doctor And don't you ever ever forget this I'm a doctor, I'm a doctor And I will never let you forget this
3.
Three hundred square miles and now you're your own hero But if it's all the same to you I'll sit this one out and when you talk mathematics I'm hearing a musical peer review My point of view is equal to, in your eyes Well say it's pint-sized And worst of all is those who will agree Cut out a keepsake and when its torn and crumpled Then it is time to return If you were a book then I'd read too much into Every word that is on the page They say don't judge a book by it's cover But have I? Did the picture show rom-com but did the story bring horror? Morning, let's take stock of what you said Ceilings yellowed by your night time smog Focus your eyes on balancing mouths Return to your habits, white grains of sand
4.
You really missed the point Salute single magpies Another sneaks into view Recoiled in terror was I Recoiled in terror was I Try things 'cos you've not Surely no harm can come From metallic paper That makes noises taste handsome Instantly tasteless But you chose that every time Now I'm sitting upright 'Cos you'd rather walk in curved lines But now home-made cakes will suffice Until it's sat there And you think should I? Should I not? But everyone else is And if I really want to see things that are not there Then I guess I should And my opinions could change The more useful question is Do you? Do you not want to? The more useful question is Do you? Do you not want to?

credits

released April 27, 2015

Played by:
Chris Perriman - keys, percussion, vocals
Sean Dodds - guitar, vocals, keys, violin, piano, percussion, bass on tr. 4
Kevin Rajiah - bass on tr. 1-3, guitar, vocals
Jonny Helm - drums on tr. 1, vocals on tr. 3
Matt Hayward - percussion, vocals
Giles Barrett - guitar on tr. 1, vocals on tr. 3
Chris McManus - drums on tr. 2-4
Christianne Ormston - guitar on tr. 2 & 3
David Wilson - percussion on tr. 3

Recorded at:
Blank Studios, Newcastle by Chris McManus
Soup Studios, London by Giles Barrett, Simon Trought & Arie Van Der Poel
The Sickroom Studios, Narborough by Owen Turner
Polestar Studios, Newcastle by Sean Dodds
The Cottage Studios, Cairndow, Scotland by Sean Dodds

Everything mixed by Owen Turner at The Sickroom Studios

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