Needles Lyrics

Turgid itch on the perfume of death

On a whispering south wind

A smell of abyss and nothingness

Dark angel of the wanderer

Howls through the loft

With sick smelling sleep

Morning dream of a lost monkey

Born and muffled under old whimsies

With rose leaves and closed jars

Fear in the monkey

Sour taste of green fruit in the dawn

The air milky and spiced with the trade winds

White flesh was showing his jeans were so old

Legs shadows by the sea

Morning light on the skylight of a little shop on the door

On the odor of cheap wine in the sailor's quarter

On the fountain sobbing in the police courtyards

On the statue of moldy stone

On the little boy whistling to stray dogs

Wanderers cling to their fading home

A lost train whistle wan and muffled

In the loft night taste of water

Morning light on milky flesh

Turgid itch ghost hand sad as the death of monkeys

Thy father a falling star

Crystal bone into thin air

Night sky dispersal and emptiness