1. |
"yer purrrrrfect"
02:17
|
|||
yer like Velcro in my mind
hung there like hanging wires
i wanna be yer ball of yarn
yew can play with me or put me on the shelf
or make me a scarf for when winter comes
so we can match in our separate burrows
and we can get all that we need
from rich peoples trash and just steal what we need to
like a fox and a cat
i miss yew and i hope yew know that....
|
||||
2. |
||||
life is a road map without a destination
on my skin theres bits of rain collecting
ill be a snowstorm on my way through the mountains
a woodstove burning in an empty cabin
i made a charm
for my knife
cut my lip on the edge
smeared my blood
mixed with spit
thought that this must be magick
make me a raven
hiding things i think are shiny
build a decoy nest to hide my feelings
outside im terrible
chained down im scared
feeling nothing but the wind in my hair
i made a sigil
thought looked like yew
bundled sticks with strings and burnt both ends
bathed in smoke
it got in my eyes
now i smell like yew and thats alright
i saw the loon on the lake
it just took me away
and the air is so heavy here
that i stopped breathing
|
||||
3. |
||||
4. |
||||
im getting fucked without yew
because i like getting fucked too
and my fingers in my hair
make it seem like yer here
im getting high without yew
wrapping myself in blankets
ill be a ghost in some lipstick
begging for their dick sucked
im feeling lost without yew
and i dont wanna drive so dont ask me
but if yew bend me over the sofa
ill show yew a sports car
im like an arrow that comes down
right on the head of the archer
piercing them in their eye
blocking out the sunshine
|
||||
5. |
||||
jesus christ yew musta been a hell of a guy
if they made a book about yew but they are still spreadin lies to these daiis
theres no wall of fire and if there was its inside my head and its still inside these days
bundled up in sacred garments giving gifts of blood and seamen these daiis.
underneath a night sky dancing in a pink aurora borealis
and sometimes i want to give up
eating cold cans of beans with a dirty plastic fork
and i think i could be some queer fox monk
in my forest monastery. and yew could only find me when yer able and yer ready cause i turn into moss at night and roses in the morning
well fuckin hell i must be some kind of sucker. if i keep on fucking up and burnin all of my bridges these daiis.
but were anarchists so we can build a bridge. the only problem is who will hold the ladder
all squabbling over free coffee. angel headed dipshits dressed in real tree
arguing over who died best with their corporate ties and nihilism
and sometimes i want to give up
breaking veg to eat some kim chi just so i can shit it out
and i think i can be some queer fox monk in my forest monastery and yew could only find me when yer able and yer ready. cuz i turn in to moss at night and roses in the morning
|
||||
6. |
|
|||
i got a part time job today
so i could bury myself
|
||||
7. |
||||
theres a ghost in these mountains of gold
that knows your face and knows yer name and the way yew like yer hair
and im fallin in love now. with the boundaries we drew
6000 miles away and i still see yer face
and the jack rabbit got away from the fox
and the cat is beggin at the cabin door
let her in
theres a ghost in these mountains of gold
that has yer housekey and yer number and can supply yew with winters warmth
and im fox spit waiting for the first bite
dripping down from my jowl and onto the fire
and the jackrabbit got away from the fox
and the cat is beggin at the cabin door
"let her go"
|
||||
8. |
||||
the cat is inside of the cabin
in the moss is the imprint they left there
and yew can tell where they lay in the morning
cause the sun rises there and its the first thing it touches
i lay awake at night for things that are breathing
i lay awake at night with things that are moving
and i swear the city lights gettin closer
and this freeway in my mind just keeps gettin louder
and it can smell me out
by my fear
and this sad little fox lost its teeth
the highway took them clean
|
||||
9. |
||||
i shot a loon on the lake
now it just lay in the grass
the bullet took its life
and it stopped breathing
and died
i shot a loon on the lake
and i just crawled in its chest
and died
|
Morel Toronto, Ontario
●○♡Ⓐ♡○●
a l l t h e d r e a m s y o u n e v e r l i v e d a r e k i l l i n g y o u
f o l l o w t h e
m o o n
Streaming and Download help
If you like Morel, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp