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On The Linen; On The Skin

from Luxury Mass by Ex-Isles

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lyrics

I’m the last choke, the sliding yoke, slow slowest slow.

slower draught and needling muscle,

curling in palsy I bend inward,

my bough inside yawns its aches,

your hand on my back, hopelessly.


She’s in the forest, breathless

she’s hope, she’s here, the lump in my throat

she’s the name I’ll never say

only as an echo can I hear of her.


I’m the last choke, the sidling yoke, slower ever slow,


and my gut, dry as a stone, dry of song. I wilt I crack.


my riverbed run to ground.

on the linen; on the skin,

my insides out, her lips by my ear,

she breathes for me, she breathes for me.


She is the forest, she’s the summer wild,

she’s hope, she’s here, the lump in my throat

she’s the name I can never say

only as an echo can I hear her.


I’m seized and soundless,

but hers is the voice I miss the most.

credits

from Luxury Mass, released September 14, 2018
Produced by James Joys
Vocals - Pete Devlin
Piano, synths, and noises - James Joys
Lyrics by James Joys

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Ex-Isles Belfast, UK

Insurgent perseverance

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