Publicist UK - Canary

Canary, triumphant: miners all dead.
The old town, once vibrant, now drenched in strings.
An old soul, attractive in a younger man.
A sad girl, an old trope, we do what we can.
Too obtuse, for mystery, give me God straight.
The only thing hideous about you is me, is me, is me.

I thought I heard a sigh.
I thought I heard the sigh of a lesser God.
But it was just children shouting, dancing in the shadows of new towers.
Oh I, I thought I heard a sigh.
I thought I heard the sigh of a lesser God.
But it was just the grinding of the street below.
Then I saw a bird’s shadow cross my window.

A pay phone’s a tribute to the breathing hard: Totemic, and winking, to the obsolete.
If water surrounds you, it’s the island that’s out of place.
If mountains move towards you, let the tears, let the tears, let the tears of joy cover your face.

I thought I heard a sigh.
I thought I heard the sigh of a lesser God.
But it was just children shouting,
dancing in the shadows of new towers.
Oh I, I thought I heard a sigh.
I thought I heard the sigh of a lesser God.
But it was just the grinding of the street below.
Then I saw a bird’s shadow cross my window.

No esoterics, no failed skin.
Give me the broken world as it is, as it is.
No transcendence, no gnosis.
Give me the world as it is, as it is.
No transcendence, no second sight.
Give me the tunnel, the ending, the light.