manafon lyrics

From Brilliant Trees through Died In The Wool...

manafon lyrics

Postby neonico on Fri Aug 14, 2009 3:27 pm

Manafon
01. Small Metal Gods full
[background chatter in unknown language]

It’s the farthest place I’ve ever been
It’s a new frontier for me
And you balance things like you wouldn’t believe
When you should just let things be

As you juggle things, ‘cause you can’t lose sight
Of the wretched story-line
It’s the narrative that must go on
Until the end of time

And you’re guilty of some self-neglect
And the mind unravels for days
I’ve told you once, yes a thousand times
I’m better off this way

I’m better off… this way

Where’s my Queen of Hearts, my royal flush?
I have cleaned and scrubbed her decks
My suicide, my better days
There’s nothing I regret

I’ve placed the Gods in a ziplock bag
I’ve put them in a drawer
They’ve refused my prayers for the umpteenth time
So I’m evening up the score

Small Metal Gods, from a casting line
From a factory in Mumbai
Some manual laborer’s bread and butter
And a single minded life

Small Metal Gods, cheap souvenirs
You’ve abandoned me for sure
My childish things
I’m evening up the score

02. The Rabbit Skinner full

As a God everything was felt to exist
As a man he settled for less
Here lies the rabbit skinner
God love the rabbit skinner

A life without purchase, no story to tell
And three little bitches fight where he fell
Foxes, foxes, give her a sign
And tell the little girl, and show her what’s mine



03. Random Acts of Senseless Violence


The target’s hit will be non-specific
We’ll roll the numbers play with chance
All suitable locations unplanned in advance

Someone’s back kitchen, stacked like a factory
With improvised devices, there’s bound to injuries
With improvised devices…

No phone-ins, no courtesy, no kindness
And the future will contain
Random acts of senseless violence



04. The Greatest Living Englishman full


Here we are then, here we are
Notes from a suicide
And he will never ever be
The Greatest Living Englishman
It’s such a melancholy blue or a grey of no significance
Plastic coated surfaces, a space to place his suitcase
As it’s passed from A to B



05. 125 Spheres


And when it appeared it was a flaming book of matches
125 spheres on a parquet floor



06. Snow White in Apalachia full


From a place on the stairs
Or sad in the backseat
Sometimes you’re only a passenger
In the time of your life
And there’s snow on the mattress
Blown in from the doorway
It would take pack-mules and provisions
To get out alive

There were concerts and car-crashes
There were ???? attended
And repeat indiscretions
For which you’d once you made amends
Then there’s ice on the windshield
And the wipers are wasted
And the metal is flying
Between her and her friends



07. Emily Dickinson


And a absence of tenderness
And who wants to live like that?

And friends turn their backs on her
She no longer a user
And she wanted to stay home
With a box full of postcards
And no place to send them
Live like Emily Dickinson
Without so much as a kiss
Or the comfort of strangers
Withdrawing into herself



08. The Department of Dead Letters full
[instrumental in the album sample provided]


09. Manafon full

There’s a man down in the valley
Who doesn’t speak in his own tongue
He bears a grudge against the English
The tune to which his songs are sung

There’s a man down in the valley
Who is moving back in time
It’s a physical ascension
You can watch him as he climbs

The farmer’s wives are at their windows
They’ve seen him wind his way for hours
They tell the kids to lower their voices
And pretend that they are owls


sea the world
neonico
 

Return to Solo Work

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 17 guests

cron