"Home Movie" b​/​w "Saint Anna Street"

by Alastair Ottesen

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1.
03:30
2.

credits

released 07 July 2015

Alastair Ottesen: Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Piano, Organ
Paul Orbell: Electric Guitar, Pedal Steel
Craig Akin: Bass
Joel Arnow: Drums, Bass, Percussion

Recorded @ Vanity Sound, NY Oct. 2014 - April 2015
Engineered and Mixed by Myles Turney
Mastered by Dan Millice @ Engine Room Audio, NYC
Cover Art: Christopher Duff

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Track Name: Home Movie
Silver tongues tied up in knots
They're running out of breath
Climb the rungs and play the slots
Avoid all thoughts of death
You've given the world what you thought it deserved but its over
It's over

Gave you rings of pearl and gold
You threw them in the trash
Girlish things, or so you've been told,
Will crumble into ash
You've given the world what you thought it deserved but its over
It's over

Well you either have time or money I suppose
But neither do I find in a rose
Yesterday's gone and you know what they say
Tomorrow might as well be today

All the banks and shiny domes
Have had their chance to shine
But now the tanks and manless drones
Are running on through our minds
You've given the world what you thought it deserved but its over
It's over

Well you either have time or money I suppose
But neither do I find in a rose
Yesterday's gone and we don't know it, do we?
Tomorrow's just playing today
In your own home movie
Tomorrow's just playing today
In your own home movie
Track Name: Saint Anna Street
The world does not stop turning when you close your eyes at night and go to sleep
And you don't move a meter when you're in a dream and off a cliff you leap
I know a place that we can go where there's things to do and the drinks are awful cheap
It's a short way down from the river walk, just a couple of blocks and you'll find Saint Anna Street

There're houses on that street and in each one if them a story to be told
Like Frank the upright piano man who's shakin hands make him think he's getting old
But he tunes the strings most carefully, shuts the window before it gets too cold outside
Saint Anna Street's his home, the only place on earth left where he can feel satisfied

Sophie is a postal clerk but at night she is a California dream
She moved here 20 years ago when the rents were low and her eyes with light still gleamed
Now she has her fun but late and alone she wonders to herself "what could have been?"
And she walks home down Saint Anna Street as the dawn breaks and she takes one more pull of gin

Now it's morning in November and the sun gives way to rain and snow and sleet
And the faces on the sidewalk are the only ones you'll ever have to meet
When you think you've got it figured out the world will make up some new game to beat
But here we've all been over that, there's nothing to do but laugh on Saint Anna Street
Nothing to do but laugh on Saint Anna Street