1. |
what should i stay /
03:29
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|
You can talk about it
It’s all made up
Still you don’t doubt it
Hearts brought and bounded
There is no love
It’s far more grounded
Look out on the water
The tide came up
Like the General’s daughter
Bark out your next order
The flags went up
The people slaughtered
Hide now from each other
The lie is up
The death of lover
Tooth marks on mothers
Eternal death
For you to suffer
Keep you face in portraits
The price goes up
The crowds adore it
Now we forget you
The Mark you made
Will only bed you
|
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2. |
||||
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Love
That’s what you died for
Love
All your achievements reduced by the one thing you pined for
Love
To league it with leaders, then loins are what’s needed
Love
Not a second to doubt it, because you’re nothing without it
Your death will not be beautiful
You’ll suffocate eternally
Your breath beaten internally
Set motionless
Against an ocean
Of devotion
And skin lotion
Wounds open
Round a potent
Poison pushing
Paralysing potion
Through pores
Assume jawlines
Remained intact through figs and circus
We fixed your cervix
And crossed your pigment circuit
For the single purpose
Of making you picture perfect
Your death will not be beautiful
Venom latches onto respiration receptors
And never let’s go
An agonising 30 minutes barely breathing
Body heaving
While death is creeping
Down into diaphragms
You drown in the fire sand
And moisturiser brands
While the whitest hand
Subdivides your land
You can barely stand
Against the calvery
Your heart becomes the car battery
That fuels the battering
And shattering
Of flattery
Pumping acid through your veins
The piper plays
While the vipers gaze
Glazes
Over your decrepit body
As you writhe in pain
Can’t hide the strain
While the Roman’s ferry you
Nor describe distain
At the improper burial
Your death will not be beautiful
There’s nothing symbolic
Or metaphoric
Of the symbiotic
Pairing of tooth to breast
Suit the jest
Of the ruthless pest
That stole the heart from a good man’s chest
Fuck the rest
Because in your death
That momentary solitude
Swallows you
The hollow truth
That you die for everyone who followed you
And in centuries time
When written into play
The real tragedy comes
From the placement of your name
And how little you say
Your death will not be beautiful
No matter what the pictures say
The fixed displays
In art galleries
Will encapsulate the fallacy
That you died for
Love
Because you’re nothing without it
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