Bruce *****burn - The Charity Of Night Lyrics
Big city, Europa, July of 64.It's 5AM. Weather blowing bitter off the Baltic.Car slows beside him as he walks, hubcaps slow revolution, jaundiced lookingpockmarked face round and windburn, short greasy black beard.Couple of language stabs, settle on English. It's cold. I give you ride? Don't you want to kiss me? This goes on halfway across the cobbled bridge. Driver pulls ahead gets out bythe construction fence, ambles toward a rubbing bulge in his pants. In hisjacket is the revolver. The hand is already in the pocket for warmth andfingers slide easily around wood grips. As slow as that predator's footstepsthe gun comes out, arm straightens, scythe blade bisecting yellow forehead.Wind. Blue metal street light. Faint twilight shining in the corners ofstones.Chorus:Wave on wave of lifeLike the great wide oceans rollHaunting hands of memoryPluck silver strands of soulThe damage and the dying done, the clarity of lightgentle bows and glasses raised to the charity of nightSlow revolution, 1985, crosswise in a hammock in the hot volcanic hills.Its 3AM, the night after the air raid.>From the ridge she watched A37s like ugly gulls make a dozen swooping passesover some luckless town maybe ten clicks beyond the border. In the distance thePacific glimmered silver. Now lascivious laughter floats on the darkness fromthe police post next door. Male voices and a woman's. Little clouds of desirepainted around the edges with rum. In the muddy street a pig suddenly screams.ChorusPacific glimmers silver. Moon full over shadow mansion. West coast. Can't say when. There is incense and heat-driven scent of flowers. A tongue slides over softskin, love pounds in veins, brains buzzing balls of lust. Fingers twine in wethair, limbs twist and roll. On the dresser wax drips in slow motion down thelong side of a black candle. Ecstatic halo of flame and pheromone.Chorus
