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lyrics

wrestling with the fabric of the world
trying to wrest from it some fact or some pearl
all the rest disturbed by the thumbtack of guilt
as doubt blooms courage will wilt
a vague understanding of the universe and its limbs
those plasticine giants stealing and delivering
I can never quite fit my hands around them
never quite make enough of a dent

if I combed the morning arc for
the days old answer
would rise and swing
with its offering

and though a sickness sits in my gut
I relish the conflict as confirmation of our love
and see man is the only guilty animal
thats what I learnt when my cup was full
and I overflow in time
and now that you’ve made it into song
I guess my writing’s done

if the day is always made up
of all these saviours
that come to speak words to comfort me

if i’m always in the corner
caught between borders
then i should leave

the dismal house that i left behind is where my self pity leaked
I’d collect the drainage and use it to compose each piece
and so in love I saw neglect of that precious ritual of grief
for the carpenters hands never felt so bland as when his woodblock was out of reach

but there was never one person that I was meant to be
and lamenting my freed woes was only vanity
I never wanted to write love songs but i owe you one at least
so I grab my pen
and wrestle with the beast

credits

from Low Temperature Civics, released July 24, 2015

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