1. |
Garlic & Chips
02:21
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~~~~~~~~~~
From the depths of your black-feathered chest, you produce a pastel painting.
A rumination on the will to power in the context of a schoolyard game.
And in the crypt beneath the monolith is where you found how it inspired this stupid song.
Oh, creation! What scant regard in which you hold yourself!
And of this nation, delineate.
Empty your hands.
Look in the place you know.
Then understand, why you don’t have to go.
~~~~~~~~~~
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2. |
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Concrete carcass. Unattainable.
Protoplasm. Hungry children.
No beach volleyball.
Gorgeous wristwatch. Insurmountable.
No orgasm at the town hall.
If I had the means to make,
Something like a great escape,
I would be the protagonist.
And I would get to say the lines,
Someone else had in their mind,
Even if they sound like shit.
Incantation. Holy cicatrix.
Flexor spasm and the smell of it.
No beach volleyball.
At the pictures with your classmates.
Acid reflux. Keep your mouth shut.
If I had the means to make,
Something like a great escape,
I would be the protagonist.
And there would be no good or bad,
Just the things that make me sad,
That’s all there has ever been.
Why don’t you go back there?
Tell them how you really feel.
Why don’t you go home?
I got hot sauce on my results.
~~~~~~~~~~
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3. |
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~~~~~~~~~~
So I’m sixteen, I’m sixteen, and you are twenty three.
Ice skating never meant that much to me.
I’d sooner sit down a slush puppy and chips.
And that vinegary ketchup that tastes like piss.
Don’t think I’ll care to remember days like this.
I’d sooner sit down with someone I don’t know.
I am leaving, I'm leaving to get on the train.
You make everything I do sound insane.
I don’t think I am that interesting.
I get no signal between Thornaby and Thirsk.
You always said that you’d give up first.
Wouldn’t that be interesting.
I apologised,
As you buried me alive.
The accident,
With the handsaw,
Was your fault.
Are you well? Are you good? How’s life? How are things with you?
Remember all those funny things we used to do?
I’m sure our kids will be the same.
And those memories now are so hard to hold.
Even grasping at the ones that make you cold.
You could kill yourself chasing them.
I apologised,
As you buried me alive.
~~~~~~~~~~
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4. |
When I Was Younger
03:30
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~~~~~~~~~~
When I was younger,
He bought me flowers.
I think about it,
For hours.
My verdict, my free will.
My saviour is from Deaf Hill.
If I were broader,
I’d still be out now.
I know I’ll get there,
Somehow.
Not pleasant, not easy.
My saviour is from Dalton Piercy.
My best friend I resent this kind of life.
And holding on to our name,
We end the wretched game.
I’m six feet taller,
Than last I saw you.
And I’ve got tidings of,
Sorts for you.
You won’t want to pass up.
This deluge flows from Old Cassop.
And now I’m broader,
Brought you to water.
I’ll make you drink it,
On my order.
Not pleasant, still bleeding.
All roads lead to Castle Eden.
My best friend and I,
We walk down to the high street.
And holding on to our name,
We throw some things away.
We throw some things away.
We throw some things away.
We throw some things away.
We throw some things away.
~~~~~~~~~~
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5. |
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Platitude Queen Stockton On Tees, UK
Platitude Queen is a folk project by Teesside based musician and certified daft apeth J. S. Gordon (formerly based in Leeds).
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