Clear Skies

from Supine by Nathan Fordyce-Wright

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lyrics

"film me in an ordinary space"
spoke, with teeth full of tobacco dregs
he tasted like an ashtray and smelt like cheap red wine
"show me in the golden hour, let them see my finer side"

"film me beneath the clear blue skies,
I don't want those alien clouds blotting out my sweet little lies"
he spoke just like a junkie and lived just like one too
regicide in The Evening Post, a deep elation soon ensued

call him a martyr, call him insane
call him a bastard, it's all the same
call him your lover, call him a drain
on your taxable pennies sent up in flames

call him a junkie, call him a cunt,
call him a sweetheart, call him a runt
he doesn't care, he will not back down
until he's king of this ghost town
x2

"film me in stark absence of grace,
I'm without beer, I'm without bread, I'm to be duplicated, destined for fame"
he said, with a stout clasped in his paws
"I want the world to kiss me and taste them as cud in my gnashing jaws"

"film me in bed with the president,
I want the image displayed to you to be as sure as the pavement"
he said, with a crowd around his words
soliloquising to The Evening Post and garnering his rabid herd

call him a martyr, call him insane
call him a bastard, it's all the same
call him your lover, call him a drain
on your taxable pennies sent up in flames

call him a junkie, call him a cunt,
call him a sweetheart, call him a runt
he doesn't care, he will not back down
until he's king of this ghost town
x2

credits

from Supine, released February 16, 2024

license

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Nathan Fordyce-Wright Dundee, UK

Feed your ear worms.

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