letra de loch leven - arab strap
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the rain p-ssed down on leven’s sh-r-s.
the sane rain would rain on superstores
and set off car alarms in our street.
let’s burn our clothes and hunt our meat.
a day of skies, a day of feasts,
we fell to bed, to grunt like beasts.
we could live in your wee car,
we could never go too far.
a flash of sun between your thighs,
a perfect black shape to protect my eyes.
a swooping hawk, a dying tree.
“f-ck me,” says he, “f-ck you,” says she.
if i’m a clown, then you’re a mime
but i’m sure that we’d be friends in time.
the selkie put her skin back on
and swam away, back to her own
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