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Patrick Wolf
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This Weather
The storm blows around this harbor town
I listen to its wind as a choir
The shipping forecast is crackling
Like wet wood upon a fire
And time slows and slips away
The tourists come around in May
'Till August when the clouds roll in
The pier cracks, the awnings fade
The Ferris wheel spins slowly in the rain
The day is gone
Under this weather, under this weather
Such shadows are blossoming out at sea
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I am not going to set myself free here
I am following some dark fortune
Some circle in me
Hold back the wind, hold back the rain
I want to live to see good weather
Hold back the years, hold back the hours
I want to live to see the sun
Break through these days
Under this weather, under this weather
Such shadows are blossoming in me
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