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What Death Leaves Behind - Los Campesinos!
I was the first match struck
At the first cremation,
You are my shallow grave,
I'll tend you as a sexton
If you're the casket door
That's being slammed upon me,
I'll be a plague cross
Painted on your naked body
Well summer sighed
And summoned up hail.
Dirty in dish rack drips the holy grail
May be heart slob but
I want 'em to know,
Cut and shut us like a portmanteau
We sit around just spit-balling,
All the witches cackle round my cauldron
Recognize the lies from my poker tongue
They say you and me are tautology
What grows from the seeds,
Can you quite believe?
Through cracks come the weeds,
Long time listener, first time caller,
No need to remind me
What death leaves behind me
Why must I lie awake,
From dusk until the morning,
Through fear of being
Impaled upon errant mattress spring?
Within a waking dream
I finally made my heel turn,
Lived life as Super 8 when
You were promised Hilton
Propose me as a pardon for sins,
Led on barbecue I'm burnt offerings
I proof-read the Book of Job for the Lord:
Edit one, League Cup 2004
We, delicate as a filigree,
Cleared a place for us in the chicory
Colosseum blood will dry in the sun
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