The Mangrove, The Preserver
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Lyrics
The mangrove, the preserver, holds its tongue As flashlight cones are whimpering And twitching like a hand Sighing without sound or light The dense lungs of the waterline Where flatness asks the water in To fall through lit rafters Spearing like a shiv of dust To meet it, the preserver Which is mangrove here but winter there Do not probe your fearfulness and pride Just try to shimmer by Without a look into the pit On your way to Dresden on a train Your luggage close Your bulging gut that's rooted through With hairline strands of thread and loam It wants it The smell of mud Through the cold glass with one small scratch The mangrove, the preserver, holds its tongue
Audio Features
Song Details
- Duration
- 06:55
- Key
- 7
- Tempo
- 144 BPM