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• Artiste: Spiral Stairs
• Titre: The Mighty River March
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A vixen sits upon the bench Her body asking questions, Her stinging complications Reflecting off the green Of liquid glass – A burning vein of water A shallow, backwards river That stretches on forever From future to the past. Her shoulders turn to face me I tilt my head to tell her That I want no part of knowledge And it only brings despair. But I fail and now I follow As she walks toward the streetlights The torches of a city plagued by Humid, heavy air. And as she turns her head around she smiles, Her eyes, two pools of dying blue; And I struggle to catch up To find out where we're going to. And pretty soon we are alone Cut off from every person Her attitude's possession And I'm a little pawn In her little game. Because I really wanna do this And I would not fight to change this, And those it's not the safest thing to do I decide to stay. She says, “O! Simple Soldier, Just march toward the river So we can fall together And there will be no difference Between you and me. Because I think you have the answer, Some fucking grain of cancer; The only, holy chance where Our bodies will be free!” And as I nod my head the lights go out. Then gravity dissolves the room. And I struggle with my brain that tells me, “Stop!” Oh, the mirrors bled! And, “Oh! My aching head” And, “Oh! How about instead-” “Just shut your mouth and Crawl into my bed!” In your eyes I saw babies die I saw fathers cry I saw priests collide I watched crosses crash into the countryside The way in which we live our lives. A silver statue made of crime The march of evil, bastard time. And I saw you Lift off of me And exhale- Your body; tired, rigid, pale And you collapse.