Virgilian Lots from Aureate Gloom by of Montreal

the pigs are taking shots at the mourners on the hill, i'm truly not neutral but i lost all direction
the day i awoke ready to blow the bridge but finding you hand over your mouth so instead i burned my own village down

i'm grieving for you my love and i don't understand what's going on

just as the twin volcanoes of Quauhnahuac we were once fabled, so sad i must bury every thought of you before it shows its teeth
now i amuse myself with a dubious form of Virgilian Lots, like your neo-feminist divinations

i'm grieving for you my love and i don't understand what's going on

all my memories once almost sacred are embarrassments to me now
of the three things i find most shocking the first is how trivial you are
the second is my depth of feeling, third the purity of our collapse

grieving for you my love and i don't understand what's going on

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