flying monkey from ∙rec by Zsa LaFine
Tracklist
| 7. | flying monkey | 4:18 |
Lyrics
Come back down to the place
Where I am once again able to separate
The moving parts of a machine that I hate
I remember for a moment who felt like what
Which parts happened to me
And where the interjections of a timeline that I am not part of belong
The transactional virtue of a class that I do not fit into
But my blood is so sweet to its fang that this is where I live
And the defensive barrier that separates me from all the living
pricks at my being
my eyes forever widening
thirsty for the hand that pry me out of this rosebush tomb
its all a game
its all a game
I don’t know how to be numb like you
To not fall to my knees and writhe inside
To not feel sick and scared and hopeful
To let go like it never happened
Like its absence doesn’t matter
Like each one isn’t the most important
The transactional beauty
Because
To fill each others gaps
To me
Is what were here for
and somehow that makes me strange
and I know right now by the playbook weve developed I am meant to stand here sword drawn with fire in my eyes
by everyone else opinion
I stay
Laid
On the alter made of alterior motives
Because no one says what the mean here
Its all a game
And no one dusts trophies they’ve won while theyre out hunting
.
Holding firm to an agreement
Putting one foot before the other
Swallow my tongue because it doesn’t make anything better
Im not ashamed to admit that you were right
But that doesn’t excuse all that happened out of sight
And its hard for me to stand in any sureness
Im walking with a knife to my own back
Trusting without trusting that you can bridle the malice
Eye to eye in the reactionary schisms of hair fractures
A body this full of painful lashes cant help but be unstable
Never take the time to lick the wounds because the licking is what hurts
The shame imbued in the weakness suggested by a blow that hurt your soul
Realising that you cannot shield
Because some people simply take
And all that’s left is the mush of you in a pile of smile that breaks
The problem is that when she sees
She sees all that’s left of me
She knows the earnest searing ache
That ambition cures
And often lies awake
One foot before the other
I miss that you made sense to me
The padding in my nest
A wish that we were meant to be
I cant tell if its left
The haunt of cyclones in my head when I tumble to rest
The wallowing throws of disrespect I understand because I shouldn’t
Agonising on washing down
Proof from false opponents
So to my face she wishes to wage
Wonders why I backed off
Ive seen this play
Concerto staged
My muddy waters wash
The problem is that when she sees
The body leaves
The hornets heave
The softness lingers on
Its not a fight of strength and might
Its getting what you want
