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The Freest Man

by Vincent Vocoder Voice

on I, Too, Was Wrought with Love (2017)

I've spat and cursed, I've screamed and blamed
Now I've got nothing left to say
A hagfish buds from every gland
Now every pen slips from my hand
A thaumaturge of hermeneutics
The art of turning gold to shit
So push my head into the font
And hold it 'til the bubbles stop

So take it from the freest man
To slip your cuffs, cut off your hands
Take it from one who's seen it all
Cut off your feet, you'll never fall
And take it from a thief of bones
Honour her grave and dream alone
And take it from a casualty
The silver-tongued swill mercury