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letra de the first night of the new world - troubled coast

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are these my eyes or just wet stones?
is that the swelling of the sea against the sh-r-
or has the world reformed from inside-out?
did we climb to high, my dear?
are the cliffs the only place you feel alive?
we cut our hands and kissed the wind
while skipping stones and shedding skin
we made a god and laid our shaking bodies at her feet
then stumbled naked through the door
and stumbled out of bed in the morning light
but too early to be seen by prophets cursing in the streets
and beggars preaching peace in faithful calm and solidarity
we resurrected power lines
and let them drip blue-green sparks upon our lips
like little kids with snowflakes on the tips of their tongues
we found a pond covered in ice
and stoked a flame and called it good
before the illuminati buried us alive

but oh my god you’ve got me now
stuttered heart, empty soul
god d-mn the way you’re moving through my mind
the way your hair outlines the world
god bless the way you touch my thighs
to warn me a storm is brewing beneath your ribs
that rain will soon follow

rain drops upon your face make you no one that i’ve ever known
i see the rock on which we fell
it’s getting bigger every day we spend away from here
but i no longer want to pull it out
or walk the roads above just to play it safe
we never really did
there’s beauty in a cut, a broken body on a summer cot
your skinny legs and ruddy skin
like knotted twine are twisted between my limbs
fall into me

but oh my god, you’ve got me now
stuttered heart, empty soul
god d-mn the way you’re moving through my mind
the way your hair outlines the world
god bless the way you touch my thighs
to warn me a storm is brewing beneath your ribs
that rain will soon follow
i’ve been thinking about letting you know
i’ve been feeling this for some time
and just forgot to let you know
that the storm from which we hid has been hiding underneath my shirt
i swear it’s you, not me

it’s so hard for me to be here with you
with all the things that i’ve been keeping inside
and i can’t go on pretending that i’m not thinking about leaving you

we watch the sun rise from a knotted hill or field of old machines
i can’t recall
but rusted metal spires reached towards the sky
like preachers wives’ contemplating death in bliss of an angry night
we fell further into each other there
so full of dusk as is the wont of the poorly -ssembled cl-ss
all stone hands and sinewy flesh
so worn from digging up the dead

line us up
we’re shaking free
paint our sins
we’re making waves in forgetful seas
line us up
we’re shaking free
paint our sins
we’re making waves in forgetful seas

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