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• Artiste: Ghost Bees
• Titre: Vampires Of The West Coast
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Last evening I fell for a vampire With brooding black circles a bleeding young liver Beautiful body of mortar and bile With lovely grey eyelids that long to retire Dreams of an old room with white plaster windows and ghosts that would come as they go But patience is daunting and after a while His nerves start to tingle his body perspires and reaches for old wounds he threw to the water with letters to mermaids and small sunken liners now dressed all in algae so green and so lovely With mothers in nightgowns asleep in their quarters. If I were beautiful subtle and touchable Would you linger to suckle and lie in my bathwater? Stay, stay, stay Pogroms they are prancing like pirates to pillage Stay, stay, stay Pogroms they are vampires bleeding my village Till everything's cotton and dry and the valley's like snow He sings like a matchstick with wolves by the fire and old prairie cradles that creak like a choir hot coals upon old wounds he curses his father writing songs for his funeral pyre