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• Artiste: Radical Face
• Titre: Rivers In The Dust
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The sweat cuts rivers in the dust On your face While the wheels beneath complain The wind still whistles through the haze The sun shines like a razorblade And the bones of crops and banknotes pave the way The highways are lined with graves Like the fingernails of giants Like blood pulled through a vein We rush the west in silence And I am not the one you wanted here But I will fill my post Heaven's touch is often out of reach To those who want it most You wear a rose from yesterday Like the world is green and overgrown And I wear a handkerchief around my mouth To keep the dust and ashes out I'd dream a glass of water With you dreaming of the sea And I'd watch my feet and you would watch the sky And we would wonder why our eyes no longer meet It was hard to call the thing we saw a storm Like it had climbed from the pages of some novel And the sheets of dust hit everything like waves against the rocks It was morning but I'd be damned if I could tell And you would hold my hand and close your eyes And I didn't mind When hell bears its teeth You learn your face and this god forsaken sun could be the moon For all it provides Eyes are on the roads Before it disappears again