Biography:
(2004 - 2008)
Page France were an indie folk-pop music band. Their music tends to be emotional and their songs tend to have simple melodies. Page France is sometimes compared to Sufjan Stevens for their use of uncommon instruments such as the glockenspiel and banjo.
The band broke up in 2008. Frontman Michael Nau is now focusing his full attention on Cotton Jones.
The band has been characterized by some as Christian due to a number of references in song lyrics and titles.
Read more on Last.fm
Other songs:
- Chariot
- Belly In The Fish
- Bush
- Casting Day
- Ceiling
- Circus Head Nobody Knows
- Dogs
- Elephant
- Feather
- Finders
- Glue
- Goodness
- Grass
- Heres A Telephone
- Jesus
- Junkyard
- Mr Violin And Dancing Bear
- No One Likes A Bleeder
- Passengers Laughing
- Pigeons
- Real To You
- Ruby Ring Man
- Spine
- Trampoline
- We Remain As Two
- Weatherman Section Three
- Windy
Four years of hard work!This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
I'm not sure about the B, but it sounds right. I like to play this song with a capo.
Intro: F, Am, B, F
F Am
Mr Violin, I love you
B F
From a treetop, in a fishknot
F Am
I was high on my own big thoughts
B
What if the sun drops
F
What if my heart stops
Mr Violin, you almost
Hit a bum note
With your bent bo
I was high on the whole big show
What if my soul sinks
What if my heart floats
B F
For the sun did swing
B F
Like a tangerine
B F
Till we couldn't grab on
F C
To the burning ring
Mr Dancing Bear, I love you
In a flower patch
Where the birds hatch
I was crooked to the green grass
What if the day ends
Whenever my heart splats
Mr Dancing Bear, they almost
Called you magic, out of habit
I was sore from all the laughing
I loved you in habit
Banked on your magic
B F
For the sun did swing
B F
Like a tangerine
B F
Till we couldn't grab on
F C
to the burning ring
B F
Every crooked tooth
B F
Kept our lips from truth
B F
I had almost survived
F C
And so did you
B F
But the rings in-between the old family tree
B F
Are crooked for you as they're crooked for me
B F
You get what you get when you bite from the tree
B F
A crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
But the rings in-between the old family tree
Are crooked for you as they are crooked for me
You get what you get when you bite from the tree
A crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
B F
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
Intro: F, Am, B, F
F Am
Mr Violin, I love you
B F
From a treetop, in a fishknot
F Am
I was high on my own big thoughts
B
What if the sun drops
F
What if my heart stops
Mr Violin, you almost
Hit a bum note
With your bent bo
I was high on the whole big show
What if my soul sinks
What if my heart floats
B F
For the sun did swing
B F
Like a tangerine
B F
Till we couldn't grab on
F C
To the burning ring
Mr Dancing Bear, I love you
In a flower patch
Where the birds hatch
I was crooked to the green grass
What if the day ends
Whenever my heart splats
Mr Dancing Bear, they almost
Called you magic, out of habit
I was sore from all the laughing
I loved you in habit
Banked on your magic
B F
For the sun did swing
B F
Like a tangerine
B F
Till we couldn't grab on
F C
to the burning ring
B F
Every crooked tooth
B F
Kept our lips from truth
B F
I had almost survived
F C
And so did you
B F
But the rings in-between the old family tree
B F
Are crooked for you as they're crooked for me
B F
You get what you get when you bite from the tree
B F
A crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
But the rings in-between the old family tree
Are crooked for you as they are crooked for me
You get what you get when you bite from the tree
A crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
B F
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
They want a crooked-er you and a crooked-er me
Pakalolo
Pál D&eac (...)
Pál Utcai (...)
Palace
Palaye Royale