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FrankenStein
Mail to Pri
The only way out:
She tells me "I love you,"
But it's only a game.
So she slides from the silence,
She's fixing a time
To move back into darkness;
Again with a smile.
"Don't touch me - I'm falling,"
She laughs in the night.
"Don't catch me - I'll return,
When the wheel comes around.
You see we're all born to suffer,
We're all born to fall,
In the fading world
That calls us to Zero."
She touches my body;
I crouch up to die.
Down the ramblers we're walking;
In Reykjavik, talking.
She's reading a book
Finished years ago.
She's tearing up paper - she's tearing up life,
But she only starts thinking
When her blood is brown.
Gold is the colour she promised to wear,
But Christ's blood turns black,
His body she bears.
But she dipped him in water, and she blackened the faith.
It's hard to believe them when they spit in your face.
And I don't want to touch you;
I don't want to lie
In the brownredgold slumber
That you've taken to ride.
I remember I was thinking only of you,
And I built you a playground,
It was built up with crosses.
But you wanted a valley
Where horse could run free.
We knew it was over when you stammered out lies.
It's hard to keep riding when the world is on fire
It's hard to keep riding when your eyes fill with blood
It's hard to keep riding when your grip has grown slack
It's hard to keep riding when your network is sliding.
We were listening to lions at Flantern with James
We were riding the trams to kneel at his wake
Though Christ is impaled through the Cross with His hands
You'd make your own gospel centred on hooves.
Christ I was thinking of Your bended arm:
It is blue on the outside; it is blue on the inside.
You said as you buckled, as if you would die:
There's no point in living.. there's no point in life.
There's spit on the bridle: there's blood in the saddle.
And you slip in the shit - you shat in yourself.
And Christus is Equus - and Equus is floored.
You follow in footsteps made by a flower.
Then I wanted to touch you -
But you're destined to fall.