The Crux Of The Brux

from Shifts by The Display Team

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lyrics

[PLEASE NOTE THAT BANDCAMP DOES NOT PRESERVE ALL TEXT FORMATTING. These lyrics look better in the CD sleeve.]

Beating palms on thighs and cursing,
capsized, I’m repeating words
and welts, I’m nursing; sandbelts grind me...
Fearing that this time’s the last time -
that I’m dumbly nearing her wit’s threshold, fast;
mime sorrow numbly and shun the chief cause: one brief pause…
Sleep is no escape as I wake with a weary sigh,
bleary-eyed and dusty-lipped,
but no wiser; no insight, no incisor…
No slight erosion deflects the next explosion,
when, with sore jaw (and tongue),
I’m strung once more, with my feet on the hangman’s trap;
I’m hoping the rope not my neck will snap this time.
Knock spots from this leopard!
Guide this lamb, my shepherd!
Tame this brute gorilla!
Make this caterpillar a butterfly!
Stomach knotting, gums sore and rotting,
copy-book a sloppy blotting,
I take actions, but no retractions
might unite the biting factions.
Tendered truth is rendered near-toothless
when engendered by a ruthless camel,
whose enamel, abused, bepowders every cowed ‘excuse me’.
How does howling loud defuse me?
Stomach knotting,
gums sore and rotting,
copy-book a sloppy blotting,
I take actions,
but no retractions
might unite the biting factions.
Tendered truth does not excuse me.
Agonised apologising!
Manically mythologising how I’m improving now...
“Don't despair - I’m not beyond repair!
Bear with me until you cannot bear me…”
Beating palms on thighs, I curse.
Pleading only makes it worse.
Signs - I’m in many minds as I ponder what to do.
I can feel my smile divide, falter and subside
every time the horror-claw comes into view;
I can hack and sever, but it grows back forever…

credits

from Shifts, released April 20, 2016

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