A Wonderful Kind of Strange Some people get on a roll While others they are just rolled Along Some are of blue blooded stock Some of us sleep in the cold So long I'd become resigned to nothing more When I washed up in my bottle on to your shore Into a different mold the world you pour And I have never felt this way before You're such a wonderful kind of strange You're just a wonderful kind of strange Dreamy is the color of your eyes They hatch from egg cartons like butterflies When you wake Didn't think I had the kind of heart could change But then there's you up there on Mars singing 'Home On The Range' You're such a wonderful kind of strange You're just a wonderful kind of strange
Thomas Truax Birmingham, UK
"Thomas Truax crafts rich, poetically evocative songs about insects, trees, technology, and a lifelong obsession with all
things lunar. He travels the world performing with his "band" of bizarre self-made instruments including a motorized drum machine made with bike wheels and a souped-up Gramophone called 'The Hornicator', as well as his venerable guitar 'Hank'.
"Inventive and Romantic" -TimeOut
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