The Colour Scheme

Steve Skaith / Mike Jones

Lyrics

You say you know me from the room that I have made
But what is housing anyway?
Only resting and a place to stay
The architects familiar theme
I didn’t choose the colour scheme

You say you’ll guide me in the route I plan to take
But what is travel anyway?
Just missed connections and long delays
From Capricorn to cold extreme
And someone else’s colour scheme

Nothing to loose
I’ve got nothing to loose
In a midnight dark as a spreading bruise
Nothing to loose
I’ve got nothing to loose
Between the angry reds and the dust-bowl blues

You say you’ll show me all the thoughts I called my own
But what is thinking anyway?
Just furrowed brows and missing days
A broken sleep and coffee steam
The morning caffeine colour scheme

I’ve got nothing to loose
I’ve got nothing to loose
In a midnight black as a burnt out fuse
Nothing to choose
I’ve got nothing to loose
Between the angry reds and the dust-bowl blues

You say you have the formula for the risks I have to take
But who would gamble anyway?
On sure things that always fall away
The endless fences tear the dream
The fallen jockey’s colour scheme

You say you know me from the room that I have made
But what is housing anyway?

Song Description

About someone who claims to know what sort of person I am, just because he’s seen how my home is decorated and knows where I take my holidays. But what does that testify to after all? Those are only externals. One needs a roof over ones head and you can’t choose the colour of the wallpaper. A journey only consists of delays and missed connections after all, the route is a matter of chance. This person also claims to know my thoughts, but what is thinking? One furrows ones brow and stays awake with coffee and the time goes by uselessly. He also claims to know a formula to minimise my risks, but who wants to gamble anyhow? Even the safest gamble always fails. I don’t have a choice anyhow and I have nothing to lose.

Angry reds: The extreme left. Dust bowl blues: A reference to the “dust bowl ballads” of Woodie Guthrie. In them he sings of the fate of the small farmers and labourers in Oklahoma, whose livelihood was destroyed by sandstorms in the 1930’s, forcing them to leave their homes. To fall away: To fall away from the lead in a horse race.