BMA Mag 379 Sep 14 2011

Page 1

Bright white cockatoo, baby how I ponder your shadow. How you rip me off my feet, rape me of my time to sleep shallow. And from the sky, she speaks to me and through her melody, lingers. I said “No, I don’t want your love, no, I don’t care anymore, finger.” Though I was equipped with a rain-ship, and a star-ship and a fire-ship, all come to dance. No one told me the end of the line could be only emptiness that would swallow all my love. I fell beneath the company. Now shall I sleep in a bed of blood, down in the deep, the rolling sea. And in my angst for#379 cool hips or softness or morning glow confidence, I took it SEPT14 to the dog, took it to the plants, took it to the beach, I took it to the shark; I found tenderness. But when I took it to the sky, to the bright white Cockatoo on a satellite, she looked down on all my years, but with a click of a finger she goes higher than the call for children, higher than the stand that kills it, should’ve s lipped it off. I should’ve known there and then. But she swallowed all my love. I fell beneath the company, and now I sleep in a bed of blood, down in the deep, the rolling sea. Oh you roll, roll over me. Yeah, you roll over m

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The Jezabels Ring out across the land


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