Low Slow Songtext
von Laura Stevenson

Out from the tunnel you walk
All with rungs of bulbs surrounding you like golden laurels
You chalk your hands and you clap clouds, mm

You move deliberately
All smooth and deep are your steps to the stairs
Lend impossible cares as you stand and wait
For the glare to fade

But I′m already poison-leaden
Line with finery the wire you walk
The wire you walk


All in war-paint, the audience is patient
So they can say that they were the day you took your spill

And the nets escape
The fastest way
But the best of them
Is the last of them

Their woolen suits are lined with fruit for you
But they never said that it ain't for you alone

So I say you should just grace them with your old fantastic, oh
Amaze them with your old fantastic, oh
And brace yourself and fall into the air, oh, ooh, oh, ooh, oh