Michael McGuire Burdens Bride
Deep in the clockwork of unfashioned time, where the hour stutters
and the eons rhyme, an expatriate of eternity, found his will to live lost
his will to be.
Come come slow sister under the silence, come come help me lay
down my oblivion.
Thur the fugitive streets I slowly unravel, direction is lost in the
meaning of travel, awkward bones and lip reading stranger, at home
nowhere mansion or manger.
Come come slow sister under the silence, come come help me lay
down my oblivion.
With tragic patience everyday I live my suicide, every honeymoons
eclipse I’m met with burdens bride, filled with this sacred self-pity, all
alone in the bones of the city.
Come come slow sister under the silence, come come help me lay
down my oblivion.
I sweep the pennies up off heavens floor, and there’s barely enough to
make me want more, and the fire is raging but there is no smoke, I’m
desperately bending but my fix is already broke.
Come come slow sister under the silence, come come help me lay
down my oblivion.
I bought the swamp from the weather salesman’s tongue, back when I
was a hundred years to young, and the more it’s over the less it find’s
it’s end, it just clings to your apathy like a needy friend.
Come come slow sister under the silence, come come help me lay
down my oblivion.
Now that I’ve learned to crawl I can’t remember how to fly, I’m sure it’ll
come back to me the day before I die, if it means anything this doesn’t
mean a thing, just more music to sigh another song to sing.
Come come slow sister under the silence, come come help me lay
down my oblivion.
Oct97
