guest guitar work by Dakota Weber
guest backup vocals by bZa
lyrics
and i awoke, half drunk with the wind in my empty eyes, looking at kind of sun that blows and shifts, but doesn't shine
and there was a girl sitting on the curb crying inaudible
her black dress shined hard against the unrelenting sidewalk, used both now for feet and for teeth, as hers painted the ground, and she picked them up to preserve her beauty
she wept, but she didn't really make noise, she just blanketed the earth and opened her legs for boys to come inside and reproduce, the placenta from the lives before still cackled, still cooed
her hair was ratted and roaches were swimming, not the bug but the end of a cigarette, still half-aflame, where the ants picked up and the buzzards left off. eighth notes and coffee stains, a name in place of wedding rings, i heard her sing in silence
sympathizing for the devil, with my head level, i have empathy for children throwing their bodies on to uncles and brothers, and cousins, it wasn't like she was enjoying it. at least, it didn't look like it. laying there, half alive, mostly dead, i remember how she used to tell me that the grass wasn't green, but magenta, and that the clouds weren't really blue, we just accepted them as blue and because they weren't, then nothing in this mother fucking world was true. and since nothing was true, not the colors that we'd grown accustomed to, not the sounds that we'd fucked the night before to, that meant that she had nowhere to go, too
so that's where she was. and i looked at her with eyes of oceans, weeping silently to myself too, as I hadn't much to do on a bitter sunday morning. but she could have warned me.
i didn't know what to do. so i put on some pants, a shirt, took a shower brushed my teeth, too. then i grabbed the closest object, some telephone wire, walked through the dew between my toes and admired the cool summer breeze. to me, that's all that was left.
i strangled her to death as she coughed for breath and found redemption. did i mention how green her eyes looked? or were they magenta? i could still smell the placenta as her toothless mouth expired their final sentiments.
but i couldn't be bothered to find out what they meant
so i left her there and i went back to bed
because that's it was, as i poured some milk onto my cereal that morning, there were myriad reasons why i couldn't wake up and ignore it.. the sound of color just played and played and i knew deep down, that everything was a lie, so I couldn't just ignore the sore tongue i'd been speaking with. or the bloody tip of a good idea turned consequence. because the end justifies little things, but the bigger picture remains a scene too big for the low-minded. so don't mind it, as we aren't meant to get it.
credits
from Poetry Collection - 01,
released February 7, 2012
Cody Weber, Dakota Weber, bZa, Wren
