The woman who walks through walls
Well she could just open doors
The person she likes to haunt
He's always expecting more
So she waits for the night to fall
For the time when the spiders crawl
From the cracks in the plasterboard
Through the dust on the flagstone floor
And her touch melts through my skin, and froths my blood like cappucino
And her eyes dance around my brain, like drunken lovers at a disco
And in my peripheral view
Like a polaroid of my youth
She's making my coffee cool
As she stands back in my bedroom
She's the woman who writes the rules
In a scripture of cheap perfume
Now she's watching my eyelids move
Making sure that my dreams are true
And her silhouette hypnotises me, like smoke twisting in the night sky
And her whisper seeps inside me, like a frost descending on my mind
And she's watching the spit slide out
From the side of my sleeping mouth
It's the glue on my paper crown
And it's starting to loosen now
I'm the hangman who laughed too loud
It's time that she cut me down
It seems like my swinging round
Is starting to bore the crowd
And each day I search for her, like a broken sign on the roadside
And each night she finds me, like a fox caught up in the headlights
There's fish swimming round the insides of my eyes
The answerphone blinks but the voice is too quiet
There's a moth on the pillow to kiss me goodnight
There's a spark from the wall when I switch off the lights
She's a festival queen, she's a mad butterfly
She's a saxophone solo fed back into the mics
She's a rollercoast ride, on a white knuckle sky
And I tap on the wall, just to check I'm alive
Yeah she walks through the wall, just to give me a fright
Oh I wait by the wall, I'm her waiter tonight
I'm the naked maître d' in a salmonella restaurant
Hey the dish of the day is my bones on a tin plate
Lined up and numbered, she's gonna eat me tonight
She gonna stir fry me, wine on me, dine on me
She biting me
Tip up the bed, turn on the lights
I can smell the sadness of the night
I can feel the waves lapping at the corners of my mind
Pushing up driftwood colder than time...
Eclectic music label based in Bristol, UK. Specialising in short run limited editions that nevertheless shift very few copies. Local Underground is Rocker's baby, baby.