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Laguna Home

Steve Donnelly
• Too Slow, Slow •
Written by: Donnelly (© 1999 SOCAN)

Lyrics

Slow comes across the water, a bag of hammers in her hand She comes in many stripes, comes in many shades That's something you would understand. Slow comes into the harbour, looking for a place to dock She finds a friendly hand, a second-in-command A perfect key to her lock And although she's not invited, she remains undecided And although you are a teacher, Slow knows you'll never reach her. CHORUS She's just too slow, Slow Why? She'll never know. She's just too slow, Slow. Slow crawls onto the land, perfect pitch in her command Waves it in your face, hi-hats keep the pace Quits and forms another band Slow hangs on the horizon, another bed that she lies in Another hand she holds; a soul to cajole Another victim of her charms. And although she's undecided She remains uninvited All the parties that she crashes Smoulder in ashes CHORUS Slow comes across the sky, water swells in her eye She wipes the tear away before you ever see The emotion it implies And although you are a pupil She's a church, and you the steeple Do not let her in: do not give in It will cost the body that you live in.

Story

A dark creeping mood, an oppressive depression, a suicidal tendency. Slow is the personification of all these, an unwelcome houseguest in my mind.

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Photos: Jim Grace, Greg Langille, Dan Dannenberg, Stephen Donnelly