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Michael McGuire
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Burden's Bride
Deep in the clockwork of unfashioned time, Where the hour stutters and the eons rhyme,
An expatriate of eternity,
Found his will to live; lost his will to be.
Come; come slow sister under the silence,
Come; come help me lay down my oblivion.
Thur the fugitive streets I slowly unravel, Direction is lost in the meaning of travel, Awkward bones and lip reading stranger,
At home nowhere mansion or manger.
Come; come slow sister under the silence,
Come; come help me lay down my oblivion.
With tragic patience everyday I live my suicide, Every honeymoon's eclipse I'm met with burden's bride,
Filled with this sacred self-pity,
All alone in the bones of the city.
Come; come slow sister under the silence,
Come; come help me lay down my oblivion.
I sweep the pennies up off Heaven's floor,
And there's barely enough to make me want more,
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And the fire is raging but there is no smoke,
I'm desperately bending but my fix is already broke.
Come; come slow sister under the silence,
Come; come help me lay down my oblivion.
I bought the swamp from the weather salesman's tongue,
Back when I was a hundred years too young,
And the more it's over the less it finds its end,
It just clings to your apathy like a needy friend.
Come; come slow sister under the silence,
Come; come help me lay down my oblivion.
Now that I've learned to crawl I can't remember how to fly,
I'm sure it'll come back to me the day before I die,
If it means anything this doesn't mean a thing, Just more music to sigh another song to sing.
Come; come slow sister under the silence,
Come come; help me lay down my oblivion.
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