I turn in my spirit, a body to use
For the gentle mouths of waiting rooms,
Lapping the flesh that hangs from me.
Fertile in wisdom, painfully
Dreaming a blaze of needle sparks
And sterile light rinsing out my arms.
Withered cells in isolation, living out an accident.
They held me up by poison IVs, the scientific sacrament.
For damage unfamiliar, will the wires ever rest?
Playing organs emptied, no one will give me mercy yet.
Whispers of interest flake my skull,
Freakishly naked through it all.
Bitter and liquid, I'm held down,
Running but swallowed in their gowns.
So hang in your masks, all holy white
And gibbous with gloves to ease the night.
Under the gauze I'm on a pin,
A fading mayfly caving in.
In paradise the dead will rise, the dead will rise.
In paradise the dead will rise and here I'll lie.
credits
from Your Last Home,
released June 9, 2017
music and lyrics by noll griffin
vocals and acoustic guitar: noll griffin
e-bow, electric guitar, and backing vocals: babyalligator
Introspective pop songs with transcendent melodies offer a joyful meditation on staying present in a world that often moves too fast. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 16, 2023