
Date of issue: 31.08.1988
Record label: Beggars Banquet
Song language: English
Departure |
He was in his room, half awake, half asleep |
The walls of the room seem to alter angles |
Elongating and shrinking alternately |
Then twisting around completely so that he was on the opposite side of the room |
A trick of the light and too much caffeine, he thought |
Then came a knock on the door |
And this sound was the same dark-brown tone as the wood of which the door was |
made |
At first, he thought he’d imagined it |
Because it would not have been out of place with the other strange |
hallucinatory events of that night |
But then it came again |
Only heavier this time |
With a sense of real urgency |
So pulling himself up |
And stepping through pools of moonlight and shadow |
He made his bleary way across the room towards the door |
And slowly, apprehensively, raised the latch |
The latch became a fingertip, touching his own |
Energy sapping as a new form, transversing the edge of his emotions |
His power became his agony, his power knew no bounds |
Whereas before, his peace withstood the vastness |
His prerogative became an endless force of the all impossible |
His final soul is flying with contempt only |
Even the legendary glance backward to meet with eternity’s stone in peace or |
save his already destroyed |
You cannot share, the temperature is rising |
The ghost and monkeys make a choice |
This… |
This… |
He tried to will himself back to bed |
He wanted desperately to feel the reassuring crisp, white sheets once taken for |
granted |
To be back home, safe as houses, protected by walls covered in familiar patterns |
But even wallpaper had become sinister to him |
He remembered staring into the paisley print and seeing a repetition of skulls |
At night he would listen to the click of heels on the concrete outside |
And try to imagine the facial features of the unseen figure |
He would always see his own face |
And another realization of this prophecy rang terrible and true |
For at this moment, it was indeed, his own feet that filled the shoes |
Shoes that no man would want to wear |
Into the hills then to search for another searcher’s closely held goals |
Into the forest under the billowing leaves |
Under the dreadful birds, the singing soil, the decrepid babies, |
the unhappy new loves |
The preaching alphabutics, the long-lost lovers never to find the safety of |
their mothers |
In fact, all the guilty clouds he will move into a playground |
A sense of moonlight and shadow |
All the stars touch to the cold molten sunflower, fly to his middle eye |
The wallpaper had sinister tones |
Alas, white cold |
Alas, rainbow’s middle infinity’s destination |
All life’s drums drink from bottles and visioins are blinded |
Name | Year |
---|---|
She's In Parties | 2013 |
Bela Lugosi's Dead | 2007 |
The Passion of Lovers | 1986 |
Dark Entries | 1986 |
All We Ever Wanted Was Everything | 1986 |
Bite My Hip | 2018 |
Slice of Life | 1986 |
Ziggy Stardust | 1986 |
Stigmata Martyr | 1986 |
The Man with X-Ray Eyes | 1988 |
Silent Hedges | 1986 |
Double Dare | 1986 |
Kick in the Eye | 1988 |
Lagartija Nick | 1986 |
In the Flat Field | 1980 |
The Sanity Assassin | 1986 |
A God in an Alcove | 1986 |
Telegram Sam | 1986 |
Dancing | 1986 |
Third Uncle | 2013 |