Kate Bush
English singer-songwriter, musician and record producer; sister of John Carder Bush.
We're calling out for Middle Street.
Follow the Nile
Deep to much deeper.
The Pyramids sound lonely tonight.
The sands run red
In lands of the Pharoahs.
Their symmetry gets right inside me.
"Get out of the waves! Get out of the water!"
I want to smack but I hold back.
I only want to touch.
But I must stay and find a way
To stop before it gets too much!
All my barriers are going.
It's starting to show.
I'm reeling in the music,
And I've only had a few...
And I'm afraid by the way we grow old...
My darling...
This kicking here inside
Makes me leave you behind.
No more under the quilt
To keep you warm.
Your sister I was born.
You must lose me like an arrow,
Shot into the killer storm.
When the fantasy bells
Of the universe ring
You can fly through the sky
On a dragonfly's wing.
There is magic within
There is magic without
Follow me and you'll learn
Just what life's all about.
This cloud, this cloud —
Says "Noah,
C'mon and build me an Ark."
And if you're coming, jump,
'Cause
We're leaving with the Big Sky.
You never really understood me.
You never really tried.
I don't mind if it's dangerous
I don't mind if it's raining
Take me up to the top of the city
And put me up on the angel's shoulders.
Mummy...
Daddy...
The day is full of birds
Sounds like they're saying words...
Elvis are you out there somewhere
Looking like a happy man?
In the snow with Rosebud
And King of the Mountain.
You'll never know that you had all of me.
You'll never know the poetry you've stirred in me.
Of all the stars I've seen that shine so brightly,
I've never known or felt in myself so rightly,
It's in me...
See how the flower leans instinctively
Toward the light.
See how the heart reaches out instinctively
For no reason but to touch...
Such is the idiosyncratic nature of her work that she could probably disappear for a half-century and still sustain her own unique position in the pop firmament. But then, who else would write about an obsessive-compulsive housewife or attempt a vocal duet with trilling birds, or, in the most courageous of the album's many unusual strategies, sing huge strings of numbers, a gambit that brings new meaning to the old critic's chestnut about being happy to listen to someone singing the telephone directory?
What say you, good people?
"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!"
Help this blackbird...
If you can't tell your sister,
If you can't tell a priest,
'Cause it's so deep you don't think that you can speak about it
To anyone,
Can you tell it to your heart?
Can you find it in your heart
To let go of these feelings...
It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.
I say good night-night
I tuck him in tight.
But things are not right.
What is this? An infant kiss
That sends my body tingling?
He said it was her fault.
She said it wasn't at all.
But the truth lies somewhere in the middle.