Strange And Familiar

menu


Felicity Buirski's Official Web Site Interior Design

Strange And Familiar


Between sheets again

Fighting off the avalanche.

There'll always be a place for you

In my dreams.


I know how you hate a hollow

So here you are again

With your paper and pen.

The Muse abuses my hospitality.


I thought I was free,

But you force an exit for my sorrow

Give me a hook

To hang my blues upon.


Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar

To me.


Pedlar your wares are wearing thin.

Some call it trial and error

Some call it sin.

You've shown me your mountain-range of joy

And all the love between a girl and boy

And all the passion of a woman and man.

Your shining pots and sparkling pans.


But now I've got to get some distance.

I'm looking out into the middle distance.

I think I've got a broken heart.

Well come on baby that's a place to start.


I've got to find me some middle ground.

What's the secret you've been around?

Some place between unsafe and sound?

Some place between your place and mine?

Something between profane and divine?


Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar

To me.


You said you'd take me to the centre.

So close we'd step inside the centre.

But here I am on the dot

Looking around at all the space that I've got

And all this space is crowding in on me.


Look I just don't see your vision.

Freedom feels like an open prison.

Get back to top security division.

'Cause there at least I know where I stand.

I built the place with my own hand.

I've got to rehabilitate my senses

Step back inside and resurrect the fences.

I can't let go that much I know.


Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar

To me.


The fining pot's for silver.

The furnace is for gold.

But a heart once melted

Soon grows cold.


So much of what I'd have sold my soul for

Blows unnoticed past an open door.

A divine sentence wanders in and arrests me.

And in these words I find salvation

At least a kind of consolation.

A song is middle ground to me

A tiny part locked up and set free.


Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar.

Strange and familiar

To me.


So strange but familiar to me.



© Felicity Buirski December 1988