all souls - pj harvey lyrics
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a carnival, a flesh farewell
heissens rising from the dead
wyman*elvis! calls our gurrel
and counts the ash to where he bled:
at the first a crimson mist
at the second sleeplessness
at the third a broken tryst
at the fourth, iwonesomeness
gawly in the sweethearts leaves
gawly in the soldier’s tears
as the riddle river grieves:
wyman*elvis disappears
only in a scrid of flesh
hooked upon the hart’s*tongue fern
and only by her own gooseflesh
knows she somewhen he’ll return
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