1. |
Blood
03:25
|
|||
I hide my volume in a polished facelift
but strain to hear the train whistle away
pulsing through my bodyscape
I bleed imitation rubies, I've studied only skin
Now suddenly
the machine wants to be mentioned
in places where she's mentioned
It stands in her doorway,
carries a watering can
it'll parrot barely literate teens, rehearsing
taking a pillow by the hand
But every time it dies I hide from you
and every time it dies I lie to you
every time I try to climb the stairs I'm back on the ground
and the serpent comes to chew and spit me out
The impatient tree fell down and lit itself
and when you walked in I had begun to melt
you smothered me and sat to wait it out
and I smother you when I can't speak my thoughts out loud
|
||||
2. |
Spermicide
03:08
|
|||
I'm born a stutter in a fat man's tread
a sticky cell, presuming it's not dead
so imagine my surprise
as my mountain folds in on itself
as the parallels blur into each other
umbilical oneness is not mine
I need a trip to an island or the grocery store
from my paltry mansion
I need a rinsed baby, a dog-collar haven
for a disguised, disgusted sybarite
My good neighbor urges me to disappear
I walk on by, turn the tv loud but I can hear
"bum, bum, bum" goes the dirge
you're dying, it's not up for debate
I sing along as I enter the fat man's gait
|
||||
3. |
Boxing Day
02:46
|
|||
I'm in a new box, left form on impulse
I'm a new box, performing a pulse
still find myself rolling in the mud
and pissing in the well
I've left a fire in a shell
when I smoke out the parasites
I'm a faux fur coat, but they're throwing real blood
I push as you pull, I'm in the shade of your growth
I'm alone, but burgeoning
Still there's a sickness, a patient festering
It sleeps there in my gut
I've kept the machine to watch it rust
I suppose it's unavoidable, the rain
so I'll cut the pity and quit acting so vain
|
Streaming and Download help
If you like Our Friend Colby, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp