The Sick Bag Song
The ill Bag Song began lifestyles scribbled on paper airlinesick baggage in the course of Cave’s 2014 travel. It quickly grew right into a stressed full-length modern odyssey.
Folded up her flak jacket, closed her eyes and essentially died. i'm a small god made from terracotta, trembling on a pedestal, Interred in a maelstrom of sound. glance what the little clay god has stumbled on, well folded! A jumbled package of younger black bones, Secured by way of a teeny half-digested thong. I learn someplace that my most sensible paintings was once in the back of me. yet the place? whilst I flip round, the flying lady is long past. • the following morning, I stand within the foyer of the 21c Museum lodge in Louisville, awed via 4.
Breathtaking, bankrupt internal urban of Detroit. Please, remember me! Pleaded the abandoned megalopolis through the river. we're the winged emissaries of God! don't melancholy! you won't be forgotten! In time, everybody will take in place of dwelling within you. Please, remember me! Implored the fugitive guy, hiding within the resort. we're the winged emissaries of God! organize your self! we won't disregard you! we've come to undergo you again domestic. Please, remember me! Cried the shivering boy on.
Blink of a watch she is long gone. • The Delta Air traces in poor health bag helpfully instructs: ‘Call the stewardess for bag disposal.’ The unwell Bag track is filled with all that i admire and detest, And all is inside of myself. it's so complete now it’s gonna burst! name the stewardess for bag disposal! Then i will commence back and day after today jump another way! Ding! Dong! I alert the stewardess to my want! Ding! Dong! My ailing bag is able to blow! Ding! Dong! The plane’s chemotrail is a fucking scandal! Ding! Dong! The.
My soul, Leonard Cohen will sing, and the boy will by surprise breathe, as though for the 1st time, and fall contained in the giggling man’s voice and conceal. The boy will get older, and over the years there'll be different songs – now not many – ten or perhaps twenty in a lifespan, that stand except the remainder of the track he'll become aware of. he'll understand as he grows older nonetheless, and crosses the Canadian border and drives down into Seattle, that not just are those songs holy or sacred, they're hiding songs – what.
Dragon that loves to sit. The Chiwen dragon that likes swallowing. The Bi’an dragon that likes litigation. The Bixi dragon that's keen on literature. The Yazi dragon that loves to kill. And so it used to be, we crossed the border, right down to Seattle, And at the hearth get away of the Paramount, after the express, I smoked and listened to the folk leaving the theatre, And closed my eyes and dreamed i used to be washed up On an enormous white stretch of your neck and whilst I bit Into it, I hardened like a coastal.