Decomposure - Black Snow Lyrics
Pan up from the ocean.pushed like icewhite hands in winter waterstasis chasing hiscores in a forgotten arcadeskipping pale before a blue screen of deathand short breath and marshlands old to pave and push live freewayscarry my air wherever i sleep on a spit in a fatsuita set of split quotes fleeing cold from my back in a hot mute panicpinned selfconscious as a ***** turtle.there is no doing left.bloodhounds inert in electrified cages, asymmetrical warfaresidescrolling through an abandoned city’s sprawlcrossing clouds when they can see your breath and tracksbowed heads and thinning thumbs piled up at a dead endsnow from a tired brown sky, an hourglass with no neckon the dogleg consulting a heineken for marriage advicewhere there be dragons, elves against mice,are taglines disguised as songs.why ask what year it is?bright beige food, footage of accidents in video loopswhen they began using their lifetime passes, dancing with the coalsconfined to grids, limited to perfectiontrackback to fill in the tendonsi am a white male in my late twenties, so it has already been said.it will not end, it will not come back, like a dog in the city,like the first time you drove through a place you’ll be moving tonot many are fortunate enough to sleep without dreaming,most have to live with themselves their entire lifeWalk out on the ice floethe distance dark with black snowSailor bailing out the boat with wood salvaged from the holefrogger stuck with dead controls, out of time without setting foot on the roadsoldier in a cave alone telegraphing codes into an empty oceanshredded hands pulling the rope, it wouldn’t hurt so muchif you would only let goBreath is boiled bodily steam hissing from a sealed stovepipesprouting from iron lungs fired by the corpse of grizzled grey bird coaleach sunset a railway tie, each rail a thin strip sliced from sinew and skeletongiven crescendo, all conspiracy and no resolution, a forever stormtold the circle of the earth would roll endlessly without edges to fall fromso i busied myself painting a mural of the sunset to hang behind our graduationand devised my parting precocious wordsfrom all the borrowed humble grandiosity i could scrape togetherwhile feathers were plucked from the hollow earthburnt quills’ circling smoke sucked into its byzantine mechanical hearthowling whirls of special promising ash tracing the contours of crushed snailsdown the entertainment dream inhale floured in possibility’s machinations,lineart sunrises and daily affirmationseagerly biting shiny nickels rendered from the priceless soot exhaledfrom a cagesheltered chorus of blackthroated children calling for anotheragainst the growl of their collective stomach’s enginethreshing entropy to progress and powerlines, sustained by treats.hope as a veneer of young learned sarcasma molasses desert slowscaling permanent torsostaped together my former split jaw (though not literally of course)like i’ve been engraving on winter night for weeksblueinking sleeves i cannot wear on days that don’t exista peeled jar bleached and filled with soil, sprout planted and growingthumb on the scale and the same wait as i could reach back through the fogstolen north, tracks laid and mortgaged to a clear pinched forcedperspectivepainted on a wall in a bathroom stalltrying to scratch a reply to myself on the wall,but i don’t have fingernails, and one by one the lightbulbs are burning outthe settling ether, old men eating breakfast,the fog of summer mornings rubbing along blue streetsfinally scattering against the burning disc of the suna long drape shuddering its last wide sigh for the warmth of its final petals unfoldingKids drink grape juice, grownups drink wineone who knows only sweetness remains a child
