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Malmaison

from EP by Four Thieves Vinegar

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lyrics

It’s raining somewhere...and the streets don’t glisten because they’re wet. We move like lobsters across a dead surface that we just can’t forget. And the bricks shoot high: cold, hard, eye-spy nothing but glass, concrete, life, sun-dried. Everything’s up. Moving, directional - implausible it once was. These pleasant dreams of tangos full of hard men, gripping fists of hair like a fumbled arrangement like they did when they were young - trying to uncover who they were then and what it meant. Why it mattered. Who she was. But the clatter of reality permeates the air and subculture’s squashed, until the monochrome appears. Because fashion isn’t dead; it’s a fascination. It’s a way of life for them that want to express their admiration - for the grey mask. Worn over white socks. It’s spitting rain in the spitting pain wondering who to fear most and it wasn’t me. Or anything or anyone that I could see. It’s something invisible, something felt, disguised. It’s something, anything that I can’t deny. It’s something that I can’t rely on. And I’m moving backwards through a mire, I’m moving forwards - I’m catching fire. And I wail at walls like threats that permeate ages. And I scream seven times from explaining that every effort was a cliché that became harder to maintain. Like a practice in The Shining and a collapse of all foundations, with memories resurfacing and I’m left with all that ego. So then there’s all this. And there’s nothing else to be proud of, but that’s all I’ve got to work with, and make myself an example of because that’s all anyone can do. To get a message through to…who? You? No-one. It goes unheard. These spoken words. Are unspoken words.

credits

from EP, released April 6, 2018

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