lirik lagu dytenna - monachopsis, pt. 2
[spoken word]
my vanishing act
when i got sick of the bar and i sometimes did, i had a place to go
it was a tall field of grass in abandoned graveyard
i didn’t consider this to be a morbid pastime
it just seemed to be the best place to be
it offered a generous cure to the vicious hangover
through the grass i could see the stones
many were tilted at strange angles against gravity as though they must fall, but i never saw one fall although there were many of those in the yard
it was cool and dark with a breezе and i often slept therе
i was never bothered
each time i returned to the bar after an absence, it was always the same with them: “where the h~ll you
been? we thought you died!”
i was their bar freak, they needed me to make themselves feel better
just like, at times, i needed that graveyard
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