Biography:
Squalloscope is a project by Anna Kohlweis from Vienna, Austria. Her debut album Soft Invasions was released on Vienna-based label Seayou Records in March 2012.
The official website is www.squalloscope.com/.
Read more on Last.fm
Other songs:
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!
Capo 2
Dm Am Dm Am
Dm
there’s a certain concentration of freedom between stations
Am
or what i consider freedom in these fenced-in glass walls.
Dm
what we learned from the movies when we were in our pre-teens
Am
turned out to be just the echo of an imprint of a call
C
and i meant to read two novels on my way out to the west
Dm
but i only read the essays with the note on the first page
C
and all i wanted to write about quickly left the scene
Dm
after finding a hole big enough in the air conditioning.
C Dm C Dm
oh…be my home. i forget when i’m on the road.
Dm
and i woke up every morning not knowing where i was
Am
and if the white outside was snow or salt or painted on the glass.
Dm
i feed off simple stories and your memories about wars
Am
and i was staring at the scenery not remembering what cities are for.
C
when i got out of the train at midnight in the middle of it all,
Dm
i felt the cold in my feet and the smoke in my lungs
C
and i ran up and down the platform measuring the train
Dm
like a weirdly lined-up village doomed to be always travelling.
C A# Dm C A# Dm
z-e-p-h-y-r be my home. i forget my one true love when i’m on the road.
Dm
cut the darkness with a plastic fork, it will swallow us whole.
Am
there are no cars in the distance and no voices on the phone.
Dm
everybody’s conquered the prairie just like ma & pa
Am
and i’ve had one too many conversations about america.
C
i remember the nothing shrinking down in size
Dm
and seeing not more than if i hadn’t opened my eyes
C
and having dreams about tidal waves and all of us in tiny boats.
Dm
i remember sitting in a hotel room thinking my head was about to explode.
C A# Dm C A# Dm
z-e-p-h-y-r be my home. i forget my one true love when i’m on the road.
Dm Am Dm Am
Dm
there’s a certain concentration of freedom between stations
Am
or what i consider freedom in these fenced-in glass walls.
Dm
what we learned from the movies when we were in our pre-teens
Am
turned out to be just the echo of an imprint of a call
C
and i meant to read two novels on my way out to the west
Dm
but i only read the essays with the note on the first page
C
and all i wanted to write about quickly left the scene
Dm
after finding a hole big enough in the air conditioning.
C Dm C Dm
oh…be my home. i forget when i’m on the road.
Dm
and i woke up every morning not knowing where i was
Am
and if the white outside was snow or salt or painted on the glass.
Dm
i feed off simple stories and your memories about wars
Am
and i was staring at the scenery not remembering what cities are for.
C
when i got out of the train at midnight in the middle of it all,
Dm
i felt the cold in my feet and the smoke in my lungs
C
and i ran up and down the platform measuring the train
Dm
like a weirdly lined-up village doomed to be always travelling.
C A# Dm C A# Dm
z-e-p-h-y-r be my home. i forget my one true love when i’m on the road.
Dm
cut the darkness with a plastic fork, it will swallow us whole.
Am
there are no cars in the distance and no voices on the phone.
Dm
everybody’s conquered the prairie just like ma & pa
Am
and i’ve had one too many conversations about america.
C
i remember the nothing shrinking down in size
Dm
and seeing not more than if i hadn’t opened my eyes
C
and having dreams about tidal waves and all of us in tiny boats.
Dm
i remember sitting in a hotel room thinking my head was about to explode.
C A# Dm C A# Dm
z-e-p-h-y-r be my home. i forget my one true love when i’m on the road.
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