Black Lung from Wych Elm by Orations

Pull out my pipe
and swear at the garbage
every Sunday night
through a fortnight.

He used to kiss my skin.
Oh low, what a sight and a sigh and then i'd
tear out the weeds
and grill up the carnage.
I can't be this way for long.

You are so pretty;
pretty lovely.
Sometimes I feel so
lonely and ugly.

Your lives are beautiful
Why'd he go black and white?
You have no color;
I still have bite.

I'll lean in hard to,
too hard, to see through the untruths,
through the untruths,
swirling throughout you.

Your parting words
sent a chill to the core of
these bones, now jumping off
into a frozen plot

of freshly hallowed ground.
Bury me in sound.
Its the only sense
I've found
I can suck down, swill down.

Sans spoons of sugar and moons of honey;
tainted, so I cut the hive.
It wasn't your sweetness,
what's left is caramelized.
Data collected,
love misappropriated,
to be...reacquired.

• Alternative
• chorus
• college rock
• goth
• post punk
• reverb
• Buffalo