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lyrics

One eye to train upon your stride, one twisted iris ties your thighs, one jilted lover broken wide. One eye that's locked upon your past, one twisted mouth that's shuttered fast, two empty sockets left behind. A very British kind of grief: the patchwork heart, the bloody sleeve, the upper lip, the smile beneath. Refuse to go, refuse to leave, he sold his home and crossed the sea, two eyes are trained upon your heel.

Three tears remain.

One hand that traces on the map, a line in red, a cross in black, you fled the nest, he caught your wing. One hand that's wrapped around your wrist, white knuckled words and shaking fist, 'I'll shoot you down to hear you sing.' One empty chamber in the gun, five brassy heads, one smoking tunnel to a road you'll never see. Three tears that fell from out those eyes, one from the left, two from the right, one flaming car, one orange sky.

Three tears remain.

credits

from From Padlocked Pounds The Sound Of Hounds, released April 14, 2013

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Matt Stockl UK

Cynical, satirical, lyrical, comical.

Daft songs. Grubby recordings.

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