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Blood For The Baptism

by King of Tyrus

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1.
With the sun and the wind to my back Warming my neck and driving my step I proceed to make my arms extend and my fingertips reach The extent that I live; the extent that I seek Why can't I convalesce in peace? Oh, do I know... The energy... how much energy it takes to break... and sink into the cold Come drink from my cold and cupped hands For mine are alive and well! They're alive and well Acceptance comes; acceptance goes Here I am grappling with the same words, the same woes It's a cancer. In the head, sir. But I don't mind. You aren't mine. I was once the study of a native Count with me these days of heaven That they'll never graduate my fingers, even see my toes "I am here," I said, pointing to my chest. "I am home." - "Where is that?" "I don't know." Acceptance comes; acceptance goes Here I am grappling with the same words, the same woes It's a cancer. In the head, sir. But I don't mind. You aren't mine. ... "Oh hey! The wolf is away! We can take some time for ourselves! Celebrate the world as all well, all while the wolf is away." ... Come drink from my cold and cupped hands For mine are alive and well! They’re alive and well Come drink from my cold and cupped hands It’s just as well if you die of thirst. Go out! Go out and bring me every godhead of the pantheon Your king commands it. "It's the will of the wind. THE WIND, I SAY!" It's a cancer. In the head, sir. But I don't mind. You aren't mine.
2.
Napalm Trees 04:08
The sidewalks and street lights and dark tones of green They always send me back to the same place, it seems Sailing on salts of buoyant melancholy, stretching my arms out for sails, I'll go. Napalm trees shedding leaves Over glass beaches in a scene From something I once dreamed Raspberry Water dreams. And as for me, I leave here tomorrow for an unknown destination. I'm outside and it's darker than usual. "Wind Oxen" - n. Oxygen, yoke, and bow in the wheat. Fur Elise in A Minor's dreams Between positive life events and life attempts, there's peace The stories and music and films that I see They always send me back to the same place, it seems Sailing on salts of buoyant melancholy, stretching my arms out for sails, I'll go. Napalm trees shedding leaves Over glass beaches in a scene From something I once dreamed Raspberry Water dreams. And as for me, I leave here tomorrow for an unknown destination. I'm outside and it's darker than usual. Off automatic, I'm on manual Fuck walking the way of the master I dare you to make me a martyr The quiet and violent defenses I need They always send me back to the same place, it seems And as for me, I leave here tomorrow for an unknown destination.
3.
Two kin talkin’ Tolkien in the kitchen when I walked in They’re good kids always growing upwards So let it sink in or you will sink I’m Elijah on ascent; no blood in me innocent A dada Derrida on C9 with comp B It’s the peasants who poison the Leviathan in its sleep But I’m no St. George and my sword’s out of reach So I'll leave I'll take the beachhead down To Watership Down: through the Garden, over Walden to find the Down. Low hum melody of summer cicada-painted wall murals on section 8 housing to sing the residents to sleep I traded gun shots for bird songs and protests for quiet calm Lawsuits for patience and dead cops for silence I come back to my hope running home Dressed in black garb, blue eyes turned my way and I stop ‘cause I know what they say: "Come see the body. It’s embalmed and ready." I hold no misconceptions on the road that winds before me for I can tell the difference in the gait of step beside me of all the misanthropic, antiquated morons on a mission It’s a death march of zombie walking people taking tours of motion and back home, my cold darkosis nervosa Why hold your quarter upward as if you seek forgiveness When you twist your wicked fingers ‘round in desperate irreverence So I'll leave I'll take the beachhead down To Watership Down: through the Garden, over Walden to find the Down.
4.
I’m atop a dark tower in a real dark place I make out a dark field and a couple dark shapes, but I’ve seen stranger things with my eyes closed And I keep telling myself That I’m okay, that I’m okay, that I’m not blind, but the darkness takes me anyway. And I’m here now I’m not where I want to be but I’ll make it there someday. Help me pour White Russians over White Russian Sages Ring around the table; pass the audio-input cable Feel loss with me. Feel loss, Sophie. Everyone sees Everyone sees Everyone sees And I’m lost again, wandering through the Hanging Gardens. I breathe in just to breathe in. "Breathe in the Pale Light, Honor - ride the Cold Horse onward." I’m amid the smoke and rubble of the Town’s Old Church I make out the crooked figure of an old man’s corpse, but I’ve seen stranger things with my eyes closed And I keep repeating to myself that I’m okay, that I’m okay, that I’m not blind, but the darkness takes me anyway. And I’m here now I’m not where I wanna be but I’ll make it there someday. Mom and Dad are helping with the bomb vest: “Clip it tight and pray, son. We all die young.” And Evie smokes rings – heavy smoke rings Everyone sings Everyone sings Everyone sings And I’m lost again, wandering through the Hanging Gardens. I breathe in just to breathe in. "Breathe in the Pale Light, Honor - ride the Cold Horse onward." Let us prey on angels, demons, gods, and devils. ‘Cause there’s something ‘bout being mortal. ... Fallout/Fallout So breathe in. Just breathe in. "Suffocate as the world burns, Honor - ride the Cold Horse onward." What was it Rust Cohle said about a midnight? Somethin' ‘bout walking hand-in-hand into the midnight What was it Rust Cohle said about a midnight? Somethin' ‘bout walking hand-in-hand into the midnight Through the Hanging Gardens I breathe in just to breathe in. "Breathe in the Pale Light, Honor - ride the Cold Horse onward."
5.
Call the waves back to me, O Lord They've stolen from me, mine own And you know, O Lord, you know How it is to lose your own Show me the wonder of yours, O Lord For the days that pass, pass without guidance My world is left and I am stolen If any hope is, O Lord, it is no more
6.
Say hello, living Van Gogh in the projects pushing too hard on the brush to live painless. Be like Alice, always chasing white rabbits to their homes for the secrets they know. Academic in the sense that you “get it”: Turgenev’s Phantom is the tollbooth ticket to the void - the null side - the nothingness - ______ ... Lullaby whispered in my ear: “It’s time to sleep. Dream of void, dream of peace.” Wake to form and out here there is no peace, only violence The dream’s a sugar whiteout/ whole city blocks are covered/ we’ll toast and jump off/ foil hats off/ ‘cause the voices said the ground’s soft Stop Do you hear that? The Devil’s on his way, I can feel it. The wind is milk against the skin, dripping off as the leaves, they turn from green You’ll run and you’ll run with your head tilted towards the sun like the children running free in this American suburban dream. Thumbs down. I wanna see the bloodshed now! You painted the door red with the Blood of the Lamb, but the plague just passed on through. Welcome to the void. Harvest time is here! The bells ring and the children play fishermen in the sand. They congregate to the speech with their toy guns in hand. All of God’s children said, “Amen.” So let’s play cups... Keep your eye on the sign as the signifier changes: I’m pop-psych-sick of sightseeing-light-lit Gone girl? Gone world! Gone roll around off the beaten road You’ll run and you’ll run, but you’ll never catch up to God. It’s a lost cause. Thumbs down. I wanna see the bloodshed now! You painted the door red with the Blood of the Lamb, but the plague just passed on through. Welcome to the void. Harvest time is here! The bells ring and the children play fishermen in the sand. They congregate to the speech with their toy guns in hand. All of God’s children said, “Amen.” You will never find the lake, Thoreau. Tell your students there is nothing to know: nothing gained, nothing learned, nothing grown. Sit here, right beside me. Find quiet in the rhythm of my breathing. On the hillside, lakeside, watching lanterns rise/ So fly south, sweet flock of angels Take away my hope for me It’ll do you more good than me Fly south, sweet flock of angels Take away my hope for me It’ll do you more good than me Good bye. We all die young.

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released April 7, 2017

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King of Tyrus Saint Paul, Minnesota

Metal for the mind.

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