Momus - Crispbread Pagoda lyrics

And I will build A pagoda made of crisp bread My window sill Is getting wet And I am trying to think of nothing Trying to think of no-one But it's proving rather hard You are the raindrop in the cloud The rock in the rolling avalanche And I am having lunch The sound of rain And eleven types of thunder Wobbling begins On the fourth floor of my pagoda And there is splashing from the gutter Gurgling round the house But I'm trying to block it out There's been no landslide at all An old supporting wall Collapsed and blocked the road My trembling hands A pagoda made of crispbread This endless rain Cancelling time A careless fit of coughing My pagoda is collapsing It seems to take an age Like a culture in decline A paleolithic ram's horn That now begins to sound And I am trying to think of nothing Trying to think of no-one But it's proving rather hard You are the raindrop in the cloud The rock in the rolling avalanche And I am having lunch