Here's another song we'll be doing for the next record. Excuse some of the ugly bits of guitar and vocals on this demo - I'm hoping we'll make something listenable when I do it with Chris. I can't exactly remember when I did this. I can't decide what to call it - it's been 'Moonspilt', 'The Smoke on the Breeze', 'Weldon Kees' and other things at different times.
The moon is spilt like milk on the wall
As white as the page, too perfect to change.
The words that he’s found say nothing at all.
He’s counting the time in mouthfuls of wine.‘I love you my love’ (but he never did though).
His smoke’s like a poem he breathes through the window
Lost on the peregrine breeze.Running away with Weldon Kees,
Mexico, India, or Belize.Rainclouds loom, the room goes dark
He gropes for the switch, an electric fix.
In the bald and bare he lifts his glass –
To the thudding rain, he makes things change.‘I’ll miss you, my love’ (but he never will now).
He loses his past by washing his pills down,
Drops himself down to his knees.Running away with Weldon Kees,
Mexico, India, or Belize.She makes the tea, and the rain keeps falling.
She takes him tea, and the rain keeps falling.
Watches TV and the rain is falling down.And the news says that a man has drowned.
With just a touch of sadness she puts on her dressing gown.
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