<Los Campesinos!> page <Romance Is Boring> album page |
In Medias ResBut let's talk about you for a minuteWith the vomit in your gullet From a half bottle of vodka That we'd stolen from the optic On the back seat in your car Because it wasn't safe to start it You were "far too fucked to drive" Were the words that you imparted And the woolen dress that clung so tight To the contours of your body The dead grass stuck to fibers from us Rolling in the layby Were passed to dog-haired blankets That protected the back seat covers And a crucifix was hung from rear-view Mirror by your mother I'm leaving my body to science Not medical, but physics Drag my corpse through the airport And lay me limp on the left wing Drop me at the highest point And trace a line around the dent I leave in the ground That'll be the initial of the one you'll marry Now that I'm not around I flew for seven hours The sky didn't once turn black I wake from sleep, my head and shoulder Wet against the window A frost had formed and melted, soaked me Right through to my collarbone If you were given the option Of dying painlessly in peace at 45 With a lover at your side After a full and happy life Is this something that would interest you? Would this interest you at all? |