There is a body behind
The market we're strollin by
Drifted to fruit and fly
I'm stranded in wasted life
traded, trailing behind
Wander with crusted eye
Rotted from stem to rind
I want it but seldom try
It could be me
Or it could be useless
I'm thinking that she
Grew up on a data farm
Like the sound of a murder
Or the words that'll hurt her
Bombs of audio to disarm
It's that endless need to cut out at knees what is ours
But I'm ok with all that
In Paris, up echo stairs
Apartment, it needs repair
Sandalwood in the air
Stay in your underwear
Through window, a city cry
Counting the ceiling eye
My body, sentient disguise
I'm grateful, but out of time
The fences are mean
The cattle are useless
I'm coming clean
I live on a data farm
It's like this tickets a winner
But still sat there through dinner
Jabs we mumble to pick it apart
It's just that endless need to always be in love
Or just another platonic
Tongue to heart catatonic
And then ran out into the yard
That's why she said to me you'll alway be alone
But I'm ok with all that
I feel it more with a dull sword
Volcanic ground
My open seams, my torn up jeans
My ashy crown
Roll on the piles of dollar
Like the stacks of the slaughter
Perfect suiters sent to the door
I can guarantee it'll never be enough
Like the scorn of a mother
Or the nag of a lover
Every flaw you see in your art
A voice heard faint and mean, you'll never be enough
Don't give a fuck about that
The enigmatic Frank Ene's solo record lives in a magical world where Serge Gainsbourg fronts Yellow Magic Orchestra. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 17, 2022