Morbids - Emily Dickinson

from by SWAMPING

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lyrics

See the bowl of red,
From the hole you made?
Good intent;
Let’s bury the dead.

You don’t want to talk
About the disconnect
Between the things we say
And the way we act.

So... Let’s throw our money in the street,
Watch the paper beats—
Rocks foundation,
Scissors’ creation.

Rip apart the joke,
Turn it upside down,
Feet will run,
Heads will drown.

Can’t you tell we’re just moths to flame?
Our body’s burning but we like the pain of it.
So sick of lovers waiting back at home—
We know what it’s like to be alone...

credits

from New Weird Asheville, Vol. III, released December 2, 2012
Matt Kotarba, Edward Madill, Ryan Slagle, Zack Wright
herecomethemorbids.bandcamp.com

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SWAMPING Asheville, North Carolina

SWAMPING is an Asheville, NC-based organization dedicated to promoting local experimental and underground music + art +video.

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