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in the pre-past eternal - marsy mars lyrics

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introduction*
so long have i been known to the constellations
so long and hard do we argue and lol on and over the atoll
that they have been burned upon my face
now they call me zvezdolikiy
and by ‘they’ i mean only the stars themselves
to me in fl!cker tongue they speaky*speaky
like most loved ones, when bored
they will rob me of my dignity for their sport

verse 1*
death, it turns out, is not prepossessing
in fact, there’s nothing to them
though for the fact of their visit i respect anew
the beauty of the rhythm of the tide
at the lips of my isle the water’s on the rise
a man with no history allows the water of time
to swamp all that once gave his life position
the context that gives communication’s purpose possibility
that’s how he or she becomes an island alone
capable of doing nothing but musing on the beauty
of the untellable pre*past – the sea, hiding all its
history, though not without body or force
and how precisely it mirrors the sky, which of course
epitomises the unknowing of their future
why do you think i sailed away from this place?
cos i’d run out of tea bags?
i was not a vulgar youth; from a fierce and wilful
respect and generosity were my dreams made
and here, now, at yeats’ gate, begin my responsibilities
and there, not in its mass but its weight, my fear is corrugated
well, perhaps my responsibilities should fear me
and creak meekly as the gate of ‘em swings open

d’you mind if i play this guitar just for one second?

verse 2*
i’ve been piecing together perfect building parts
perfect airs, perfect peaceful lairs, the notion
of a perfect system that will both contest and care
preserving perfect moments of the lives it imperfects
to find my arcadia; always being evaded
by the so*basic logical fail i had, in my quest, made:
not all are born like me or of me
so arcadia must be by me; not for me: for us
i will begin its construction, drunk, already debunked and
newly seasoned having learnt to distill the salt of better luck
i wonder what the sunshine feels like over mars
as i hear the outside morning’s bypassing cars
a spinozan ‘ehh’ is all i’m awake enough to say
the only word i can wave bound to earth here in wandsworth
my eyes are wide to capture the endangered sunrise
my mind has begun the production before construction
behind a crane before the river i see the light: every day’s gifting;
and think how it looks like the crane the sunrise there is lifting
shining into the past, and all its secrets
the story has not yet begun; no, this
like every one must have its time before it starts
beneath its stars, shining onto the past, and all its secrets

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