Includes unlimited streaming of Real Home
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album
Cardboard gatefold with double-sided illustrated lyric sheet.
Includes unlimited streaming of Real Home
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
ships out within 3 days
£12GBPor more
lyrics
I like to boast
with you waltzing around.
“Can’t you see those fictional listeners?
Do you hear me?”
Out corralling ghosts,
the brushfires pace through the fog.
But feeling you trace my hips,
it dawns on me I am a stranger
to my senses, to my sight.
No work-around: this is the arrow, this is the flight.
But what names can I give that don’t
conceal their course like crimes?
No work-around; no imitation life.
The chorus falls backward; the put-ons expire—
The record isn’t real.
But so what?
Just to say that I like that. Wonderful.
So much
I have lost to a great noise.
**
Out of the writhing, westbound evening,
exhumed, exhumed
idol of meaning, engraved
caught on a gesture made just for you.
Bold as a shop-steward, I took your arm
and we made our exit (we were heading for the coast),
but were then separated not fifty yards from our posts.
In a maelstrom, I fell or melted.
Outside was windswept. Red foxes hovered.
Clave of thorns; fanfare of lawns.
I held your image like a lantern (side-on
and dimming).
Fences rattled like phantoms.
Phantom hour, where the dead run amok
and so I reached out looking for you,
and then a voice said:
"YOU CAN'T COME IN. NO NORTH, NO COURSE."
I reached out a second time, and the voice said:
"YOU CAN'T COME IN. NO NORTH, NO COURSE."
I reached out a third time, and the voice said:
"YOU CAN'T COME IN. NO NORTH, NO COURSE."
I reached out a last time, and the voice said — nothing,
as the fever revealed some promise,
we begin to see ourselves,
begin to see ourselves...
(I like that…)
**
A kiss, a kiss.
Fountain of memory
brings words to you,
my coastline, my parallel.
“You were selfish. Cast nets
to catch on simple things you could have simply touched.
Performance vessel. Oh, love of mine,
is our love a vessel? To dress with sails, to drive?
The flowers throw your veils down, and still they thrive.”
Far on, far out, the flower is singing,
unheld, far on, far out, the silence is singing,
like stone, far out, the silence is singing,
unheld — far out — like stone — a kiss —
our lives — unheld — far out —
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