Lions In Mesopotamia
In movement splendour can be gained
And as mountains can reach heaven
The cold moon afternoons illusions will sigh into your ear
And I swore I would not lose it instead I still stand in the afternoon light
Where you fleetingly glance over shoulder, over tear
Bringing paint and walking roads
I know I am not yours.
Its your moon. It's your moon.
And the loss of Olympia will scar you
And the tower will house a king
Who sings wildly with no fear
At they who are too young to know what its like to be in love with fire.
But you, you are the reason that all Athens took over the world
And it is your chance to dance at the foot of the mountains of heaven
Hearing the echoes of history and the ripples of the future
Kicking the flower's dried carcass that sit balanced on its stalk
Taking a look while talking and minute by minute passed
I wonder what would be the case if we changed direction
Yesterday I saw a fire destroy my hero, the others glanced into the crowd and lent no ears to no city You have to know what hallway to guide the chosen hands and
Sometimes you have to be still.
Its the curse of the curves the curse of the lesser men.
The only day for love, the only day for towers and mountains and suns.
In this room we hear hinges being worn away,
We hear boxes being built and we hear youn men decide monumental futures.
Obsure yourself in your choice and make no excuses
These rubies are yours and this language is ours.
Dont let the moon burn you and don't let the applause hurt your ears,
For even though the stones are kicked at your door and the paint is caught between roof and crack
We can still centre ourselves round the muses and the rise and fall.
I'm not going to feel the pain, I'm not going to feel the pain
Is it not enought that the pitch grows to a deafening roar
Like a train moving through marching soldiers
And my brain, I can not get used to
Its innertia and its different
I am lost and Im not turned on
There is so many colours
So many fruits
YEs I could be good
I could sing and be bad
Be solomn, be pure
And be the apple of man
When I am here I hear my sisters jewelry box
And I cry
I fall
I am the soaring eagle
Who has landed on the bins with difficulty
Taking photographs with my eye
The lord is picking flowers and cuts his own hand
On the sharp stalks and thorns of vines
What would you do this afternoon
Given the chance to fly, given the chance to see throughly
From New York to Moscow
From Dar el Salaam to MElbourne
I am the man face down on the hot stone
Flesh being peeled from the leather whip
being softened from the hard soap suds
Being meausred for suits
And I can taste the stew of my youth
Cooked by the woman who married the hunter
And I do not realise that people get tongue ties
I do not realise that people tap their own messages
Lie still for as long as you can
There has to be a point to this
And when we pray to God who will hear?
Who will hum the hymns to me?
Its the skin from the dead beast
Ties to the tree where branch meets stump
It is the dinner left cold in the snow
Often we know when the after is before the now
And if we jump naked into the water
The waves will pull us apart
If not now then someday
With every beat
Every coercion
I will not be the experiment for your old age
I will not be the equation for your life
Someone to be left down your emotional well
So get out of my reflections out of my skeleton
And the sugar that is my blood I will give to my roses
Its the abuse I need from their glory
Its the look i need to give them
And the women will come and they will strip me
They will grab me and drag me to the concrete square
Scraping my flesh along the rocks and broken glass
And I will think of the ocean breaking up the ship that holds the signet ring
I will think of the sail that is washed ashore tangled in seaweed
And the shepherd winds blow south
The sycamore trees bend as the birds circling around
The doors can not be opened softly like lullabies
And health is nought but something invented to help sell books
We are fake, we are songs
Sighs and alcohol in the school paddocks
I have grown and I am the sun
My lips are here for you to taste
I am the reunion that you want to happen with the past and time
And impossibilities don't exist because they haven't happened
I wonder about days the glorious sand covered days
Caramel covoured sorrow and lava that comes from smiles
Its bigger than our love
ITs biiger than our boat when it is moored to Turkish soil
I know, I know
I hava listened to our agreement
About the stars, poetry and the empty pockets
WE are the ROCKETS
We are the NIGHTS
That are glad and full of sound
I can't diversify or stipulate what I ccan't explain
But its magnified because it's bigger than
The rubies, and the gold and the sails and the sailors and the undiluted water that we have all come from and if we hold on tight the waves will not separate us, no the waves will not tear us apart.
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