Kate Bush - Organic Acid Lyrics
He got her drunk very quicklyHolding hands, they found the broom-cupboardWhere he had control as far as the fallWhen his hand covered wet hairShe took over among furniture waxDust, and the cloying yellow of polishing-clothWhen he was sick, she comforted himOh hush, my friend, and sleepAnd cuddle to the windSleep on through the wavesThat may wet your lover's dreamWe have been far through this night long hoursWe will go far, tomorrow, out of sight, ooh...He couldn't do it properlyThe disco, the office, the pub,Had left out those details of delight.Satisfied, he would collapse out,Puzzled at why she still squirmed,Held onto him, tears curling into her mouthThis was something their stories always omittedThat her joy would seem like painWhen he focused after his release.Do sand and shells and stonesPeep in through your night?But you should not be hurtFor all will pass with time.We have been far through this night long hoursWe will go far, tomorrow, out of sight, ooh...In the third week of the relationshipShe was tripping on organic acidWould stop to pick up a rained-out leafWould give it tenderly into his handFull of dead things before they reached the carWhen they drove she sat with mouth openAs though photographed on the impact of a stomach punchHer right fist gripping the skin of his left legHooking the steering-wheel closer to his heartHe feared her, and slapped out sideways into her faceShe entered the cut with her tongueGurgling gratitude for the strange tasteDo you fear the dark?Then hush, and realiseThat though the angels never comePrayers can soothe your mindWe have been far through this night long hourWe will go far, tomorrow, out of sight, ooh...There was no premonition of the wet Hog's BackThe sportscar slumped, snout into a beechTheir corpses giving the vehicle armsPetrol and blood at last dripping togetherBut quick flashes of a planned lunchCold red beef, white cloth by a cherrywood fireGame pie, and for him two pints of colder beerThe winter air tucking under their eyelidsAs they spun on the gravel at ClandonTheir hands steaming from quick moistureThe aromatic finger drawn up to his nostrilDazed after mutual masturbationThey zigzagged into a conservative endOh hush, my friend, asleep.
