A Band Of Buriers - Cello Dub | Текст песни

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• A Band Of Buriers
• Cello Dub

What can one say now that all that remains here is hollow scolded shame
And a warped parade smouldering in cooling ash?
A backdrop built from fabrics woven atop falling trees
In tiny animals inside a heart drawn along a spine
And I am gone

Cross hatched long before the shade began to make a carve and mould
All the heroes never told in all the old books
Folding back on their own spines and trying longingly to fly
Into the dumb and boring opalescent clear that floats so near
Above our doom

If you do just as they say you may be rich or even known
As a shape hidden inside the golden lined briefcase
Handcuffed to a faceless acrid man standing swollen on a broken vending machine
Pleading with the clouds to sink
Drop and swallow warmth

And the rust is bleeding on us in scuffed and wretched long streams
And these mountains made of paper maché'd folding money burn
And all will fall for waltzing mutilated muse all odious
And on a payslip dipped in vanity
Clutching your god

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