The First Night of the New World - Troubled Coast

Are these my eyes or just wet stones?

Is that the swelling of the sea against the shore

Or has the world reformed from inside-out?

Did we climb to high, my dear?

Are the cliffs the only place you feel alive?

We cut our hands and kissed the wind

While skipping stones and shedding skin

We made a god and laid our shaking bodies at her feet

Then stumbled naked through the door

And stumbled out of bed in the morning light

But too early to be seen by prophets cursing in the streets

And beggars preaching peace in faithful calm and solidarity

We resurrected power lines

And let them drip blue-green sparks upon our lips

Like little kids with snowflakes on the tips of their tongues

We found a pond covered in ice

And stoked a flame and called it good

Before the Illuminati buried us alive

But oh my God you’ve got me now

Stuttered heart, empty soul

God damn the way you’re moving through my mind

The way your hair outlines the world

God bless the way you touch my thighs

To warn me a storm is brewing beneath your ribs

That rain will soon follow

Rain drops upon your face make you no one that I’ve ever known

I see the rock on which we fell

It’s getting bigger every day we spend away from here

But I no longer want to pull it out

Or walk the roads above just to play it safe

We never really did

There’s beauty in a cut, a broken body on a summer cot

Your skinny legs and ruddy skin

Like knotted twine are twisted between my limbs

Fall into me

But oh my God, you’ve got me now

Stuttered heart, empty soul

God damn the way you’re moving through my mind

The way your hair outlines the world

God bless the way you touch my thighs

To warn me a storm is brewing beneath your ribs

That rain will soon follow

I’ve been thinking about letting you know

I’ve been feeling this for some time

And just forgot to let you know

That the storm from which we hid has been hiding underneath my shirt

I swear it’s you, not me

It’s so hard for me to be here with you

With all the things that I’ve been keeping inside

And I can’t go on pretending that I’m not thinking about leaving you

We watch the sun rise from a knotted hill or field of old machines

I can’t recall

But rusted metal spires reached towards the sky

Like preachers wives' contemplating death in bliss of an angry night

We fell further into each other there

So full of dusk as is the won’t of the poorly assembled class

All stone hands and sinewy flesh

So worn from digging up the dead

Line us up

We’re shaking free

Paint our sins

We’re making waves in forgetful seas

Line us up

We’re shaking free

Paint our sins

We’re making waves in forgetful seas