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Lonely thoughts they seep, into mind
Into me, pushing deep
Wash the dirt, a hard days work
Know my place
On my own
No poison in my bones
On my own
This is where I build my home
My home
This will always be my home
I work until it's late
Walk in and close the gate
I look in the window
And I gaze at my face
Every line and every abrasion
This took my life to make
This took my life to make
On my own

No poison in my bones
On my own
This is where I build my home
My home
I need someone to hold
I need someone to hold
My home
This will always be my home
This will always be my home

Enjoy the lyrics !!!
Birthed by Mouth in the year two-thousand and five, young Edward Sharpe had to wait nearly two years before he was to grow his arms and legs and fingers and toes.
Immaculately conceived, his father (a Robot who had magically become a real boy…but that’s another story) declared his undying devotion to the creature. He perched the fleshy bust upon a teetering pedestal fashioned from stacked cereal boxes and positioned the display at his window for all the town to see. Young Edward soon proved no ordinary boy.
Though his father had figured him deaf for his unresponsiveness to sounds, he in fact had the universally unique condition of being deaf from hearing too much or, more correctly put, too well. In plain words, he heard EVERYTHING AT ONCE.
At first it proved rather painful like a wretched whining winding all hours, but very soon those who whisper visited young Edward and revealed to him the Tricks and Truths, the Ways and Plays, the Chords and Dischords of the Universe.
He did not need to eat but the color of the sun, which was F#, and moved his bones to grow.
His arms and legs and fingers and toes grew ‘til the tower of boxes collapsed and he laughed. He moved thru the door which was C over B# and ran thru the village hearing ALL of its music! The workers and children and painters of buildings and dogs barking madly and trees bristling softly and OH!!
Young Edward could not resist! He began playing the tree which are the chords E and D ‘gainst the mice in the grass which are A played with brass and the wooden fence F and then C and repeat with a drone of B Minor to bring in the street and the Birds B to B Sharp with fluttering strings and the sky mostly C unless he wants to bring in the rain and for rain bring the F Chord bombastic with organ’s distortion and symbols a’crashin!
Yes, and a music was born.


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