Our Lost Infantry Aleph
(verse)
Oh, my mouth is dry, I'm hearing lights again
The odour of pencil on paper
The bass notes that shake through my fingers
The hair on the back of my neck, a-bristle with fatigue
A rictus of overtone series
That burn as I breathe through the memory
(chorus)
Keep it down in the cheap seats
Knuckle down
Give it elbow grease
Keep it down in the cheap seats
You're grist to the mill, you're standing still
You're a bleak child sat facing the window
(verse)
Make me an island with the best of men
Landlocked in ashtrays and broken pens
Biros and dust for my skeleton
As hands like hammers, split my skewed phrenology
Stock market symphonies flourishing
Cash registers blaring the voluntary
(chorus)
Keep it down in the cheap seats
Knuckle down
Give it elbow grease
Keep it down in the cheap seats
You're grist to the mill, you're standing still
You're a bleak child sat facing the window
(outro)
When you were ranged, were ranged in columns before me
I could not speak - my eyes failed
So many misshapen drawings
When you were ranged, were ranged in columns before me
My death by water flowing though this undiscovered country
Read to me tonight, please
