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Violette

from Silver Backed Bream by Robh Hokum

/

lyrics

These men I travel with:
we smell of sour milk and cigarettes
And the stench we wear on our sleeves;
A waltz to dischordant minuets
“Will my destruction ever cease?”
you scream from within your tomb
of opaque vapours in your phone;
inhaled and exhaled by a womb

Seize your last message
and hold tight, hold on to those bullets;
your little lead soldiers;
little bricks in your homestead;
shot for shot they’ll fall
They will fall
They will fall

[Your delicate researches
Your presence of mind
Twice held, never caught]

A leaping vibration; bounce on by
The baying hoards;
a silver backed bream,
running to your net
Locked: still and confined
Clap the timelessness
The mechanics couldn’t split your mind; perhaps your teeth

Seize your last message
and hold tight, hold on to those bullets;
your little lead soldiers;
little bricks in your homestead;
shot for shot they’ll fall
They will fall
They will fall

[Your delicate researches
Your presence of mind
Twice held, never caught]

credits

from Silver Backed Bream, released April 26, 2010

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Robh Hokum London, UK

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