
lirik lagu rob walmart - solace the carolers
[spoken word]
often i think the irrational decision to begin is cause enough for celebration
or ‘we must be the venice we wish to see in the world’
or what the window washer died for
ah, oh
that i had a song of use
i’d first solace these carolers
i’d give you rest
i’d give you the color of the sun on one hand
the shape of the moon, the other
o, this my stare, my weight and costume
to pour an oil exactly between you, your toil
this black white machine
ah, we are long shadows
on the hunt of a ghost
a straight arm visage of mables
..and this might require a more aggressive jay~walking
..or, we must be the venice we wish to see in the world
so we’ll climb up the scaffolding
work pliers on the small engine within
..or a cab~driver lighting mary candles in the cathedral
where a cardinal would stay while visiting your city
what you keep on the balcony
the parts of your city that are not covered in shadow
..or, you want to be alone
so, you pull out your postcards
of the adored, cayman, ah obsession green
and then, on this island of aspired solitude
you’d give both your arms for another human
or listen too closely to the sound of birds
turbines..all gears
..i’ll repeat..so..
or rather..
..this is caused by..
ah, oh
that i had a song of use
i’d more than butler this dictionary
i’d seat these ghosts, i’d..
..and the children did
not know the name of their father’s joy but laughed
oh, oh
out of the quarter of your eye you see
the marriage in swans
the creative engineering of mathwork and angels
the first definition of fog as new grass shot up after harvest
or, despite the blue these irises
they will not survive the coming winter
the fl!cker of maple leaves trees
juniper birds ivy you june of her birds eye view, shighs, closes
or, o the green swim of jade in the belly of a still calm pond
ah, oh
a piano in the well ragged traps a tune
this dangled red waltz
down in the ancient dune
working in the thick of sea grass chords
ah, we poke a pain in the heart
numbering our marks on the bins and toes of morgues
well, we’ll go down dune town
claw and rake in the furrows of graves
we’ll find the keys to dad’s old motorboat
we’ll wake the carp in the aquarium
rouse the coroner
he’ll call the blue blemish a blue blemish
ah, ah
in the dunes, in the dunes
in the cool night air
we’ll call the crow kiss a crocus
dance the tiny glass praise of chieftains
ah, oh
that i had a song of use, i’d..
ah, you ask me to rise, oh i tell you to pause
and remember what the window~washer worked for
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