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Clockwork Ink

from Deluge EP by glassbooks

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lyrics

You returned from where the water begins,
And your face was viscously dripping from your chin,
Or were you just waiving your painting?

The artist is sick of expression,
Quick swim in the innocuous rhythm of weather,
And find your very own nook,
In the tessellated air,
Created for the statist’s,
Time constraints,
To lightly tear apart your painting.

Ambitions of colouring black holes,
Caved under the weight,
Of wet clothing dripping its dye,
Monochromatic Face.

You said,
Don't you know,
The watchmaker washes his clothes more than his clocks,

His minute universes pass their time corroding.

He says the money makers will sink,
Pedestrians into the ice rink,
When the beating drums of bottled water come crashing down on us.

Sarcasm was never my strong point,
But you're looking pretty good,
With a weight strapped to each joint,
Aren't you? Are you a testament to the modern truth?

Don’t you know,
I wash my clothes more than my clocks,
And I am not marred by that Pegasus.

Where are the kids?
Where are the watercolours?

credits

from Deluge EP, released March 24, 2014

license

all rights reserved

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about

glassbooks Glasgow, UK

Glassbooks, a four piece rock band from Glasgow, Scotland, is: David Escudero King; Adam Carrington; Bo Hamilton; and Rosie Murray.

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