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lyrics

Talking to the Idaho seminary boys
With a twig from the chamber and a flower from the tracks,
Neatly-pressed cassocks curtain Converse boots,
And their eyes beam vigour and their words ring bright,
With their eyes in rapture on a gaze so fixed,
And their skater-teen dialect intoning their faith,
At the coach station underpass we smile and diverge,
A kernel of faith, a dead flower and a stick.

On the twilight coach home from Ozwiecm.
Does the sleeper-flower recall being once a mere stem?

Peregrinations 'cross the pebble shore,
The sunset, a Blakean period smear,
Astrewn with tee-pee pagan beacons and pyres,
Built by kids from the gift of a sunk timber liner.
Murmurations of birds like we never saw,
Gather dense, danse macabre, above the old pier.
A teenager sketching a pile of old tyres,
We walk arm-in-arm past the twenty-four-hour diner

As the sky beds down, a chill plummets southwards.
Through the pub window, over a cigarette, mouthing:

'I love you' will never suffice.
An essence so rich cannot be put on ice
In the lexicon of our lobotomised yelp.
I'm kicking my boots free of starfish and kelp.

In the early shot of the dawn chorus.
We're aware the world's a playground built for us.
What the twilight coach from Ozwiecm taught us:
We're humbled that life seems to implore us
And them, to keep on keeping on, never alone

credits

from TERRitORies of disSENT, released February 9, 2010

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Nick Hudson Tbilisi, Georgia

Nick Hudson is a UK-born, Tbilisi-based composer/artist/image-maker/activist..

In April 2021 Nick released his first solo album in five years - Font Of Human Fractures - to glowing reviews from The Quietus and Libération.

"There isn’t really anyone making music like Nick Hudson” - The Quietus

“Genius” - BBC Introducing

“Scott Walker channeling Coil” - Mojo

www.theacademyofsun.com ... more

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