Hideous Clocks and Romantic Shellfish.

I’m not the cheeriest button in the box tonight. There are several reasons for that, including the fact that I have to be up at 6.45 because I had a message to tell me that the replacement fridge freezer is to be delivered between 7-9am tomorrow. Is that legal? The last time I was up at such an obscene hour was in 1999, and that was only because I had a 350 mile drive to make, with many lefts and many rights, and many lochs to look at languidly, and I wanted to reach the rented cottage in Wester Ross before it got too dark to find the freggin’ bed. 6.45am is an alien concept to me, and a disturbing one at that.

However, I retain just enough enthusiasm to post a Faun song that’s really rather nice. There are three things I like about it:

1) The opening instrumental with the flashing shots of angels.

2) The sound of somebody running on a shingle beach in hobnail boots.

3) The English translation of the lyrics, which (allegedly) runs thus:

‘If the sea were ink and the sky were paper, could not be written how much is my love. I love you more pounds that shakes the air leaves, that starlets have the Heaven and sand are the seas. I'm wanting more sands that have rivers and fishes has the sea. If in my heart entraeas and my feelings scallops, more satisfied to stay and much more I wanted.’

If that isn’t a transparent statement of undivided affection, I don’t know what is. The scallops are undoubtedly the clincher.

I wonder whether there's any point in going to bed.