Cerberus Shoal - The Real Ding | Текст песни

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• Cerberus Shoal
• The Real Ding

O' tempest of again and then within my dark lit eye
Has dreaming spun you round about the hand you are escaping with
Is it too far as the scenery goes?
Always alone when shaped like this the heart is heaven huge
Hiding in the seam of solar systems embracing.
All space is leaning in to get a scent of you.
It's dangerous outside as well as in.
I'm magic for a chosen few
Confused as well as clarified.
Unknown a pixel in your T.V. screen.
Give me truth and I will show you how you lie
Give me lies and I will know your self.
As far as the skin can stretch are islands, tan children, and laughter.
Slow metaphor of blood flow
A challenging descent to find points
Viewed from above; It is of no concern... around a globe,
All scrawl and clutter.
Where toes design your whereabouts
And eyes are fields departing.
Great lengths
Deceptive
A ladder partakes
Of itself climbing into arm safe apertures.
Convinced of its usefulness.
How steady the spin is descending again to remove the view from altogether.
Axis and paramecium converge, connect. dry as dust for present touch.
Immaculate wax on mannequin sized neighbors. all alone.
Outside in trees.
A trance of community.
This place is baubled with victory.
Successes of democracy.
Lingering stinkily, our commitment
Is to Christmas trees and history.
Unloved by those we chain to us.
However, I am satisfied.
A comforting selfishness mingles with my sweat.
Terror confounds my every cell.
It's daytime when the eyelid grows.
And ghastly when the dripping slows.
Writing poetry on fingernails
Will never pass the time away.
It's griefly coldley lonely living beneath the ice and soundless fissures.
I'm a drag in too tight clothing watching windows fill with frost.
A crack will form.
I'll think again
Belief responds outside where the worms all hide.
Holes become your fingers in earth.
Sky-blue, and cherry red windy resplendent.
Never an average mind in winter.
Adorn your golden tongues with mouse traps and children's stories.
Give gravy to the singing birds to shut them up.
Focus on your diaphragm or hold your nose in effigy to mom-ma.

O! holy countenance
Help me fry an egg.
Your omnipotent machinations can't fit in our stomachs.
I fear starvation will be your only answer to our prayers.
Or perhaps we are praying for starvation to deliver us from comfort.
To lead us into the stone bed of our passions.
Lying midst the ruins.
Defeated and drooling.
A dead dog bringing a leash along.

Wild woman clothed in pig knuckles.
Screaming savage litanies at her deaf god we forever shadow.
Cloistered midst ballyhoo and willow brained brethren
Lashing at expressionistic flesh hung fresh to the day in the backyard of our dreams.
And forlorn too, the ration of eyes to eyes.
It is not the right wind for the back to be against
So stand still and drifted of mind.
Correct the time.
A sign has come in luminescent lassitude, a bed spring to the land of oz.
Two feet away from everything.

Sad hours closer than a day away
What makes it so?
Have we no ligaments left in our souls?
Are we to never bend again beneath the sway of our indifference?
Give up your tombstones!
There is rot enough in our quick pace.

Somewhere there will soon be motion to the cause of this.
More dusky and delicious. Meanwhile, trap the skin
In liquor tight and ignorance, at least in the beginning.
There'll be room enough for growth. It comes free with
Self effacement.

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