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Artist: Uncle Ho
Submitted by Annie.
Google Uncle Ho
Viewed 71 times.

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Nothing To Have

An uncanny sweetness seeps in through
A black speaker into me and you,
Chasing the dust out of the things we wear.
We walked out of the dusk into the light
Of the promenade, side by side.
Throwing stones into a fading day...
WE ARE SORTED OUT,
IT MAKES ME ILL.
I WANT TO BURN, I WANT TO FEEL
THERE IS SOMEWHERE TO GET TO,
SOMETHING TO HAVE.
There is a curious glow that radiates calm.
It's in the waves, it's in the dawn.
It's in the cars crushed into squares of scrap.
Finding shy creatures under the stones.
It's all part of the place called home.
Can this be true, can such things be?
WE ARE SORTED OUT,
IT MAKES ME ILL.
I WANT TO BURN, I WANT TO FEEL
THERE IS SOMEWHERE TO GET TO,
SOMETHING TO HAVE.
THERE WERE LOVED ONES,
MACHINES THAT CLICK.
THE END IS BITTER AND NOT AT ALL QUICK.
THERE IS NOWHERE TO GET TO,
NOTHING TO HAVE.
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Other Songs by this Artist

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All I Know
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Bubblehead
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Catching The Bug
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Come On, Come Clean
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Honeycomb
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I Don’t Care If You Like Me
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Little Everyday Things
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Nothing To Have
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Out On Your Own
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Show Them What You Are Made Of
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Solid
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The Long Slide
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Welcome Home
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You Hate Yourself, You Want To Die
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