The Wanderer
Kid A
last night she lay in his arms,
black and white still frames
clutching at the colours in the sky
today, there are no cities
big enough to lose him
an empty attica, above...
the basement sheen
and now this apartment
grasps you like a flame
a mouthful of pills
to worship the pain
he doesn't have to be
your daddy and your vein
the slurred tones creeping out over
a wielding touch of shame
the streets spread out amidst
the crease between your thighs
and nothing you could fake
is ever going to fill your insides
~all apolgies, Henrik
black and white still frames
clutching at the colours in the sky
today, there are no cities
big enough to lose him
an empty attica, above...
the basement sheen
and now this apartment
grasps you like a flame
a mouthful of pills
to worship the pain
he doesn't have to be
your daddy and your vein
the slurred tones creeping out over
a wielding touch of shame
the streets spread out amidst
the crease between your thighs
and nothing you could fake
is ever going to fill your insides
~all apolgies, Henrik