1. |
yeah, mud
02:46
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pulled him by the strap so he tumbled in
beside us,
head volleyed over hoofs in a dead dark
crevice
yeah, mud scatters in the path
of the man up top,
they’re saying in the back
he’s got the sack and given up,
and now we’re stuffed.
now he’s like a symbol for the dread and the
panic,
sun spinning like a bowl on a spear
in a sky like granite,
no sir, haloing his head as in a
black felt cloak, it makes me want to
laugh like it makes me want to choke.
them Cossack steeds, baptised in gunfire,
man they look good,
tearing through the dark of half past two,
their ribs showing.
cornered like a fox where his lines got
severed,
hands motion at the air so the
flies don’t get him,
look, guts out on exhibition in the
water and the blood mix,
guarded, scribbling the vitals for his
mother in a book.
I don’t know what I’d write my
mother,
I’d creak and bleed, coated in
leather.
them Cossack steeds, baptised in gunfire,
man they look good,
tearing through the dark of half past two,
their ribs showing.
my Cossack breed, half-blind and
gun-shy, man he looks good,
sleeping on his feet like horses do,
his ribs showing.
pulled him by the strap so he tumbled in
beside us,
head volleyed over hoofs in a dead dark
crevice,
yeah, mud!
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2. |
pure misery
02:41
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I’ve got to tell you something,
I’ve got to tell you something.
you know I wouldn’t have a microphone
if I didn’t have to.
I’m the one with the band, man,
I’m the one with the band and they
told me that I really got to.
these four men behind me ask only
that I sing, what an amazing platform.
my own private podium, I climbed up here to
speak and nobody stopped me.
hello I’ve got to tell you something.
I’ve really got to tell you something.
I’ve got to tell you something.
I’ve got to tell you something.
I really got to
and all those lights are angled my way,
you see them?
I didn’t even practise, I’m just
gonna freestyle.
what a creature, what grace,
said with such commendable taste,
give me those ears, I’ve got to
tell you something.
we march on with a tired theme,
light this clown up,
give it a name, a message, a picture
of pure misery, months in the making,
give me another beer,
I’ve got to tell you something.
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3. |
dogs
03:39
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the witness, visored gloom,
curved like a dome, nothing to do,
I should’ve – I should’ve –
in one of those closing moments,
one-sided, and all of your stones
all stacked in a row,
let’s go on for a while.
alright, just not too far,
they keep me awake, I know the day
will be hard every day.
these stones, not yours,
I tell you no more, with contempt
and scorn, not yours,
not yours.
April’s back in bloom.
a grassy grave where I
buried my dog who still wanders
in the fog of the frigid woods,
searching strangers,
sniffing hands in the
twilight lands for my particular
scent which he remembers good.
I have a new dog now,
she treads with dainty paws
over headstones, nineteenth century,
forgotten professions,
forgotten diseases,
with time, tragic deaths seem
to lose their tragedy.
and the strain is Sisyphean,
the colours are April back in bloom,
back in bloom.
and the strain is Sisyphean
as it all becomes abstract,
an antique fable, and the
blossom is nearly cruel.
nearly.
dull rain, it waters such pain now,
just a player on a stage at the
last act, in the last light,
procession of shadows whom death
had undone, death had
undone.
up, line them up, every coward
for reassembly, every able-bodied
husk for the war or the wall,
but always the gun,
always the gun.
and the strain is Sisyphean,
so many of them perennially
kicking scrap, picking bones,
pushing stones.
and the strain is Sisyphean,
the colours are April back in bloom,
back in.
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4. |
alive and well
03:45
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I was so confused, I couldn’t understand it.
I tried to please too many people
and somehow every one of them is
pissed off at me.
the exact opposite of what I intended has
materialised,
and now everyone I know who’s alive
and well is pissed off at me,
including me.
going long, I push the waves back,
kicking down in all that blue and black,
dig em in and reach an impasse,
never ever not going to feel that.
I was so confused, I couldn’t understand it.
I tried to please everyone to no more
than a sufficient degree,
and somehow every party suspected
this was my intention.
and everyone’s pissed off at me.
everybody.
everyone’s pissed off at me.
going long, I push the waves back,
kicking down in all that blue and black,
dig em in and reach an impasse,
never ever not going to feel that.
gone far, but haven’t looked back,
fading intellect, yeah,
that’s what you said –
there, the only cataclysm.
I build a blaze there, yeah,
it’s pushing night-wide.
going long, I push the waves back,
kicking down in all that blue and black,
dig em in and reach an impasse,
never ever not going to feel that.
gone far, but haven’t looked back,
fading intellect, yeah,
that’s what you said –
there, the only cataclysm
I recognise.
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5. |
jeans
03:48
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I’m surrounded by bad losers, they want the worst for me,
and I’ve lost friends along the way, but they held me back anyway.
I don’t know fear, I come first place,
I’m the best of my age, I’m a dangerous man,
I don’t call back, I come first place,
and I’m cutting me out, why shouldn’t I do it?
Just to do it.
Have to do it.
I can do it, I can do it, I can do it, I can do it,
I can do it just like anybody.
why shouldn’t I, why shouldn’t I, why shouldn’t I,
why shouldn’t I do it?
when I walk in a room, yeah,
well I just start walking weird,
when they pass me the ball,
well I drop it and they say
“nice hands.”
I took my car for an M.O.T,
and they laughed at my jeans,
and the size of my car.
what’s wrong with my jeans?
I specialise in tough love and coming first place,
tell everyone that I make my own luck,
that’s why I come first.
I don’t take shit, I come first place,
oh there’s someone at the door?
well they’re gonna have to wait.
I don’t say thanks, I come first place,
no one to thank but myself,
no one to ask for a friend.
just to do it.
have to do it.
when I speak at the lectern,
well I butcher my speech,
and in dreams I’m a lawyer
being chased by a dog.
I queued that song because
I like it,
I wasn’t trying to say anything
about myself or my taste.
when I walk in a room, yeah,
well I just start walking weird,
when they pass me the ball,
well I drop it and they say
“nice hands.”
I took my car for an M.O.T,
and they laughed at my jeans,
and the size of my car.
the size of my car.
what’s wrong with my jeans?
what’s wrong with my jeans?
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6. |
good boys remember well
03:08
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official reports in the basement,
118 dead, what about 23 in the
sixth through ninth compartment?
attaining their refuge in the
small ninth compartment,
hunkered down in the bowels of
the falling can and survived for
more than 6 hours.
23, as oxygen ran low,
attempted, in the oily water,
a cartridge replacement,
exploded on contact,
triggered a flash fire,
killed several sailors
and consumed,
consumed, yeah.
couldn’t bring the boys back,
23 packed in the ninth section casket,
eggs in baskets at time of the resurrection,
good boys remember well,
well, well, well, well,
said I couldn’t bring the boys back,
August bad luck, a devil on board,
please follow me down
in time for the ascension,
good boys remember well.
they chime and fracture,
shells red and rimey and thick,
like water pouring in,
flooding the hallway, 6 hours,
flooding my pipes.
said it’s extraordinary,
utterly fanciful, sending
shockwaves, impossible as the
actual end, god, it fills a vacuum
with rage and impatience and fury
and depth, impossible depth,
less than half – more than half of its
displacement,
official reports in the basement,
I couldn’t bring the boys back
in time for the ascension, no.
I said yeah, yeah, yeah,
sad I couldn’t bring the boys back,
August bad luck, a devil on board,
don’t follow me down
in time for the ascension,
good boys remember well,
well, well, well.
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