I, The Swan

I, the Swan
Beautiful and phallic
Perched

Canvas draped, paint peeled
Paddles on some thin waters
And mutated mixtures

Hurl stones around breaths
There will be... shadows fall

(I, the Swan, am beautiful and I desist
In space between this being and idea)

I, the Swan
Beautiful and phallic
Perched

Neck stiff, a stoned image of a main belle
Words within swollen candies, knees to the floor

Canvas draped, paint peeled
Paddles on some thin waters
And mutated mixtures

(I, the Swan, beautiful and phallic!
Canvas draped, can I feel?!
I, the Swan, beautiful and phallic!
Canvas draped, can I feel?!)

He picked up a large white vase and pitched it
Sharp porcelain lined the shapeless pool of liquid formed by its contents
Of the man that pulled at my feathers

The artist, the true manifestation of struggle
Shattered porcelain greeted back with fresh wounds
Of memories; two beasts... naked

(I, the Swan, beautiful and phallic!
Canvas draped, can I feel...?!)



Credits
Writer(s): The Sound Of Animals Fighting
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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