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Gone Fishing

de Róisín Murphy

An uncommon sense
Close to abandonment
Learning, discerning
The difference between do or die

Each step taken away from
A place of hopelessness
Takes me closer
To building another kind of family nest
There is no inclusion for those stigmatized
Nobody close to us ever recognized
Only exclusion for us out there
Only delusion fuss and despair

An uncommon sense, woo-hoo
So beautifully dressed, woo-hoo
In a moment of realness, woo-hoo
I fear I could be fearless, woo-hoo

Destitute, out on my own
I had to run this far from home
The children of the damaged and unkind
My new friends are like-minded
It’s a mechanism of surviving this
The children of God, the children of LaBeija
Found a place to express my soul
Won’t go on in the shadow’s hold
So I’m going to the ball to get my prize
Expensive things are the cheapest thrill
No such thing as overkill
Will we live on? The children of LaBeija?

There is no inclusion for those stigmatized
Nobody close to us ever recognized
Only exclusion for us out there
Only delusion fuss and despair

If Paris is burning
Then just let (just let) it burn
The youth are (youth are) very discerning
Till you tear them apart (tear them apart)
You can’t stop the children (children)
It’s easy to mock
This form of survival instinct
Why should I stop?

And uncommon sense, woo-hoo
So beautifully dressed, woo-hoo
My mother’s mistake, woo-hoo
My father’s heartbreak, woo-hoo
Young birds who are flightless, woo-hoo
Become birds of paradise, woo-hoo
And the practice of realness, woo-hoo
Feels so surreal

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