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lirik lagu middle of march – lysistrata

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[intro]
wednesday, late morning middle of march
the sun’s just popped out from behind the clouds

[verse 1 x2]
there’s a cold breeze that doesn’t seem to be
coming from any particular direction
i can hear ten times more birds
than i could yesterday
and their chirping intensifies
[ow?] the breeze turns to a strangish wind
tickling the dozens of trees that surround me
making their branches bend and squeak and crack
the sound of wood being chopped
behind the stone wall that separates my garden
from the neighbors woke me in the early hours of the day
splitting wood and blocks hitting
the inside of the metal wheel barrow over
the fast plasticity rhythm of the chippers diesel engine

the swinging of the axe ceases
i can here two men talking
i can’t grasp what they’re saying
but i can tell that the first voice is desperate one
trembling with fear
the other is dry and fierce
shaking with impatience
something else strikers me
the neighbors dog
an english setter with less brains
than an [oyster?] but more excitement
than a seven year old an christmas eve
and the jaw muscles of a f*cking great white
isn’t barking today

first time in five years i haven’t heard that b*st*rd hound
i haven’t seen the garden’s wife either
usually at this time of day
she would be feeding the ducks on the [village?] green
come to think of it
i haven’t heard a single [quads?] today either
the wind and birds
the splitting and engine sounds
fade out
come to a halt
utter silence between two heartbeats
in the distance
sirens

[verse 2]
first time in five years i haven’t heard that b*st*rd hound
i haven’t seen the garden’s wife either
usually at this time of day
she would be feeding the ducks on the [village?] green
come to think of it
i haven’t heard a single [quads?] today either
the wind and birds
the splitting and engine sounds
fade out
come to a halt
utter silence between two heartbeats
in the distance
sirens

[outro]
(…)
but i can tell that the first voice is desperate one
trembling with fear
the swinging of the axe
the other is dry and fierce
shaking with impatience

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