Fugazi

Marillion

Vodka intimate, an affair with isolation in a Blackheath cellExtinguishing the fires in a private hellProvoking the heartache to renew the licenceOf a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsulePropping up the crust of the glitter conscienceWrapped in the christening shawl of a hangoverBaptised in the tears from the realDrowning in the liquid seize on the Piccadilly line, rat raceScuttling through the damp electric labyrinthCaress Ophelia's hand with breathstroke ambitionAn albatross in the marrytime traditionSheathed within the Walkman wear the halo of distortionAural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversationShe turned the harpoon and it pierced my heartShe hung herself around my neck

From the Time-Life-Guardians in their conscience bubblesSafe and dry in my sea of troubles

Nine to five with suitable tiesCast adrift as their side-show, peepshow, stereo heroBecalm bestill, bewitch, drowning in the real

The thief of Baghdad hides in Islington nowPraying deportation for his sacred cowA legacy of romance from a twilight worldThe dowry of a relative mystery girlA Vietnamese flower, a Dockland unionA mistress of release from a magazine's thighsMagdalenes contracts more than favoursThe feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat

A son of a swastika of '45 parading a peroxide standardGraffiti conjure disciples testaments of hatred

Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights trim the barbed wire hedgesThis is Brixton chess

A knight for Embankment folds his newspaper castleA creature of habit, begs the boatman's coinHe'll fade with old soldiers in the grease stained roll callAnd linger with the heartburn of Good Friday's last supper

Son watches father scan obituary columns in search of absent school friendsWhile his generation digests high fibre ignoranceCowering behind curtains and the taped up painted windowsDecriminalised genocide, provided door to door BelsensPandora's box of holocausts gracefully cruising satellite infested heavensWaiting, the season of the button, the penultimate migrationRadioactive perfumes, for the fashionably, for the terminally insane, insaneDo you realise? Do you realise?Do you realise, this world is totally fugazi

Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries, where are the poetsTo breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary

Tištěno z www.texty-pisni.eu Sponzor: www.srovnavac.cz - šetříme na pojištění!

Powered by TCPDF (www.tcpdf.org)