Decomposure

Decomposure - Island lyrics

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Decomposure - Island

Blessed is the apple cored: two dozen slices packaged, each one sold

blessed are the buyers’ notes: divorcing knives from the affordable

blessed are the vendors’ stores: heaven unrolls, each mile collecting toll

blessed is the oneway road: an apple cut cannot again be whole

The seers shout from their towers, ‘everything is infinite’

pray you don’t find they’re wrong, for you’ll be hanged for telling it

The earth is a lonely island

we have been steady drinking our own urine for far too long

we’ve heard the story time and time again

we’ve seen the ending and know we deserve it when it comes home

Turn your costumes up.

remove your voicebox and roll it smooth on the counter.

the second law of thermodynamics sends your eyes on a tapdance

every moment on call, forever on the precipice

can you decide an upsidedown teardrop written in blank numeric verse?

decision points, thumbnails held open with alligator clips

sinking slick ships riding black waves of the unobservable past

come on, ashes - lick your chapped lips and pout for fashion

vanity veins and sunrise

there’s a white backdrop waiting to powerclip our hope in

whatever’s in the cup, you can find someone to drink it and say it’s delicious

starcrossed glasses banging pots in the kitchen

the laff track swells, john galt peeking under the shells

the future isn’t coming so we’re turning to salt

injected in our necks like antiradiation medication

fauxconscious rappers with their ation rhymes selling taster’s choice

couldn’t struggle from their la-z-boys to answer the door

when the poison made landfall. we cried,

“i wish there was a mainstream left, so i could hide in its meniscus

now all is edgeless, all is one hundred and ten percent.

my friends stripped and chatter pith down the river stored in a faraway grid

mined for primes and rare statistics

until they’re formally replaced by scale replicas

Stormfront to backstabber

gathering facts in baskets that trackback to themselves on white lather

the light unravels while blackness hovers over the surface of the shallow

the swallow shot for the gold ticket in its beak from the gallows

straining for the ground as they swung

and we spin around the scene smooth and free

the programmers have the camera;

does it matter without tension between real and imagined?

tragedy’s skin deep to an avatar, avarice rentacar

observing is a hungry syringe

until you’re peering through one red frame of old 3d glasses

it’s so easy i don’t care where it’s from.”

the angel of death peeled his eyelids off

and placed two golden coin eyecups and mini tvs too in each socket

singing teenage dreams as bristling electricity for eternity

while its bright thorny roots pushed through the back of his skull

and spread like hotcakes generations wide

erecting trees without branch or leaf

impaling the conscience dreamers in flight

legs tight as a cramp in a dance routine

dogwhistles and m***** hazards, so believable

can you hear their snaking chrome whispers spitting liquid smoke?

i’m being followed.

don’t retreat, reload.

grip the wheel and explode.

the end is within reach

with a few more on the board

from beyond the arc or slam dunk

i hope you didn’t need those arms

red dawn

swim to shore as it erodes

holla back when your bones show

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