Song: A City Without Walls or Towers
Viewed: 53 - Published at: a year ago
Artist: Victory Over The Sun
Year: 2018Viewed: 53 - Published at: a year ago
With every passing day
I watch a red nose grow
Upon my drunken house
Plunging in its cavernous enclosure
I try to find the light
But drown in mucus and in bile
Which gushes out in rivers
At the sight of unfamiliar angles
A leg askew, a lonely ear, a drooling eye
Another running heart
Running into the stubbled street
My soles adorned with razor blades, I
Scrape the chin of every highway in
This city without walls or towers
Broken glass still reflects
Quiet room, heart still pounds
Endless rays unaligned
Begging for answers
Brokеn neck reaching out
Without hope or a causе
Silent songs are still songs
If you listen
In my dreams I see my face
A nacreous disc suspended in space
In my dreams I know your place
A hole in the wall and a vacant embrace
Underneath the city’s skin I grow, a genital network of
Roots, blind and swollen, slowly absorbing forms and phantoms
"We shot the past."
"Is anything left?"
"Not a trace."
"Is the void profound?"
"It ventilates the whole city."
I am a living book, listing lamentations, moaning, and woe
I am a city without walls or towers
I watch a red nose grow
Upon my drunken house
Plunging in its cavernous enclosure
I try to find the light
But drown in mucus and in bile
Which gushes out in rivers
At the sight of unfamiliar angles
A leg askew, a lonely ear, a drooling eye
Another running heart
Running into the stubbled street
My soles adorned with razor blades, I
Scrape the chin of every highway in
This city without walls or towers
Broken glass still reflects
Quiet room, heart still pounds
Endless rays unaligned
Begging for answers
Brokеn neck reaching out
Without hope or a causе
Silent songs are still songs
If you listen
In my dreams I see my face
A nacreous disc suspended in space
In my dreams I know your place
A hole in the wall and a vacant embrace
Underneath the city’s skin I grow, a genital network of
Roots, blind and swollen, slowly absorbing forms and phantoms
"We shot the past."
"Is anything left?"
"Not a trace."
"Is the void profound?"
"It ventilates the whole city."
I am a living book, listing lamentations, moaning, and woe
I am a city without walls or towers
( Victory Over The Sun )
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