Los Campesinos
The Black Bird, The Dark Slope
The black bird sits atop my guts and spreads its wings for flightMy shoulders back, my jaw pushed out, my stomach sucked inIts wingtips push across my lungs and fill them full of feathersBut the brushstrokes feel like hearth pokes into my skinThe black bird feasts upon my guts and bears its beak to fightMy shoulders back, my jaw pushed out, my stomach sucked inIts wingtips push across my lungs and fill them full of feathersNow they poke between my teeth and that's why I thirstWhen he flies me to the top there's nothing but the fogA heart of stone, egg shell for bones, they lead you to be lostThe dark slope drags you downThe black bird is a part of me, so sad to seeSo sad to be meI ask before I go for you to drop a lit match down my throatAnd smoke the bastard out or burn him to a crispCause I'm already carrion, been eaten from the inside too longThis black bird wants to rip me limb from limbThe black bird dips its beak in blood and writes its thoughts in cursive 'cross The bones that are its jailer and my ribcageAnd when you turn me inside out, believe in me without a doubtThe words were all of his and none of mineWhen he flies me to the top there's nothing but the fogA heart of stone, egg shell for bones, they lead you to be lostThe dark slope drags you downThe black bird is a part of me, so sad to seeSo sad to be me
From Letras Mania