Momus – Little Apples

From the album ‘Folktronic‘ (2001).


Lying in the nude with my Apple G4 cube
I am rendering a porcupine in Bryce
And in Stratavision Pro I’m designing where to grow
Little apples when I build a haybale house

I heard on Ananova while snoozing in the clover
They’ve mapped the human genotype at last
And when the news was done I looked up into the sun
Through my Fuji DV1 and photographed a lone
Golden eagle like a stealth jet on a test

As the cliches turn to truth like the trees begin to lose
Their leaves I think I’ve lost where I belong
Tears fill up my eyes ’cause I’m leaving life behind
To live forever in a country music song

I drank and then I lied, I shot and then I died
I woke up under open country sky
Is West Virginia real here on my windshield
It sure as hell looks strange in the weird Blue Mountain rain
Lke a figment of my melancholy mind

The seasons as they turn a log fire as it burns
Country music always at my heels
I’m becoming all the songs, I’ve been living them so long
I sometimes sing the words in Japanese

Break me out of gaol before my memory fails
I don’t believe in destiny or God
Did a flying sauce come flying from the sun
And fry my brain and dazzle me with fog?

Did it take my soul away? Is that why it’s all so strange?
I’ve forgotten the refrain

Bury me at sea, say, "Who the hell was he?"
Or weep on bended knee, but say these lines:
"Here lies a fool who never knew
Who he really was and threw away the little apples
The little apples of his mind"

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