Power

(late 2002; drawn out of heartache and Power by the Plaid-Tongued Devils; lyrics from the song are italicized)

Say, say the name of the King,
here in front of the thing
you've been longing to be
And now, what was beef is a cow,
golden idol to bow
But you're no longer free

We ran like gods but we tripped, spiraling downward until we lost all sight of the sun; where above ran my dreams, and where below lies my fate? Spines twisted into feral grins that will never again grow melancholy, nothing will shift us from this spot.

Go by night and drag bowers
You'll miss flowers, you'll lick lime
It's alright - you want power,
You've got power, you've got mine

Dried out and with bones exposed, angular and panic-staring at whatever spectre the empty sockets last regarded, torrents of regret overlaid with the citric sweetness of decay.

Say, say my name to my face
and the whole human race
Will be yours underneath
And now what were grapes are now wine
in a bottle divine
Never able to breathe

Trapped, air forced from lungs into jars resting on Fate�s mantel, ancient words labeled and ready for inspection. Watch carefully, lest a drop escape, leaping back toward the moon it can no longer reach.

It's all right, 'til it sours,
You'll have towers, but no light
It's alright - you want power,
You've got power, you've got mine

Drained and subtle, jaws still parting in that final winking smile, tongue wavering between a lash and a lick. Brows drawn low and thick, sinister but powerless, shielding the sight from things that must never be seen: the ghosts that step daintily over crushed ankles and across oddly-bent necks.

No, no more memories of here
ninety-nine ropes of fear
Say goodbye to your friends
And now, what were bells are a gong
louder now as you long
For the nightmare to end

Bound and silent, wrapped in bonds that would draw blood from every inch of exposed flesh if any remained beneath the blue-green surface; where from here could we run? The violins play, haunting and teasing; try to twist about, to meet the melody, but it is impossible.

Go by night and drag bowers
You'll miss flowers, you'll lick lime
It's alright - you want power,
You've got power, you've got mine

That scent keeps growing stronger, fair but laced with lead. Colours flash, red thickening the orange of burning hair, blue stroking it into a dull violet whose passion will never exist.

Get down with your bad self
Kow tow at your own feet
bound to the ground you bow down on -
Take a look around you
Your capacity for cruelty
is so much greater than mine
You'll feel right at home, you'll be fine
down with your bad self

Back-to-back, ever in contact but ever facing away; ever staring at the sky, power given to the stones underfoot, to highly-amused visions watching from below. Fists gather themselves but cannot hold; they unfurl into a desperate grasp that can reach nothing but the soft embrace of the soil.