indie
britpop
brit rock
Lyrics
Festival of Kites
And in the middle distance
Where molten sea meets sky
It seems that all the silk in China
Is floating up on high.
Spirits that are truly free
Of human mind and hand.
Because I can see the kites control
The people on the sand.
You draw a moustache on my passport
I panic, but it rubs off easily
Like memories,
Like memories.
These young men standing on the beach
Make tiny supple movements of the hand
But they’re just puppets
Of these soaring gods.
It’s a festival
Where no-one has to dance or shout or sing.
It’s a festival
Where all you need is a yard of silk and a reel of string.
It’s a festival
Where no-one has to dance or shout or sing.
It’s a festival
That frees the heart and gives the spirit wings.
We climb steel ladders,
Our footfalls ring like fractured bells -
Sounds stolen by the salty breeze,
And torn away across the swell.
We clutch the rail, then roll together.
I smell the sea and taste your hair -
The hair you washed so carefully
Now lashing wildly in my face.