Marshall McLean: songs and lyrics

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)

I wrote the bulk of this song in a Greyhound bus station on my way up to Spokane from Missoula to record the album 'Heaven's Grey.' this song is mostly about movement. the movement that we take from birth onward and the 10,000 ways we can make that movement, all while we are still so far from home.

I was born on a Thursday in late afternoon, and clouds they were heavy and so was your purfume, white walls tiled floors and pictures that mean nothing, I awoke to the voices that said that I'd be someone.
I'm awake I'm alive I think that I am, and with the movement of motion I lept from your hands...and now there's ten thousand ways to fly past these walls that cover up our eyes, I don't think its our fault darling we were born so far from home...
I'm in a bus station now with the smell of gasoline and there's voices in the ceiling not talking to me, I'm not asking for much just the road that leads me home, and a noise in the comotion that I can call my own.
fine wine takes time that's what I hear, and the minute that you gave me turned into years.