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The Mirror
por
Mark Lanegan
Featuring(s) : Mark Lanegan
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It was on the 13th revolution of Blueberry Hill That I'd decided the needle had had enough I pulled myself from the rocker Looking like a dangled tangerine peel Held by invisible fingers Yanking a knife from the lifeless flesh lump by my feet I replaced the stylus It suddenly felt important not to overthink things As I gripped out for a hoop of key like figures with my spare hand They glowed upon a carbon peg on the wall Bent awfully by overuse Picked and replaced Slowly I made my way Convincing head and heart to remain calm Towards something resembling a lock drawn on the mirror In a substance bordering on obscene I had that feeling in my stomach again Akin to what a spent despot must go through Down in his bunker Waiting for a military coup
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