Late that night by the crooked christmas tree
You opened up your mouth and prepared to consume me
Your blood was soon to stain my pubic hair
And your naked body was not all that you would bare
And I remember, there were ducks on your pants
And I remember, the way the breeze blew through the flat
And I remember, you taught me how to feel
And I remember, the way I threw up that day’s meal
Our clumsy movements as we attempted to disrobe
Belied the intricacies of our unspoken code
We cleansed ourselves of our self loathing and despair
And handed our bodies into one another’s care
And I remember, there were ducks on your pants
And I remember, the way the breeze blew through the flat
And I remember, you taught me how to feel
And I remember, the way I threw up that day’s meal
credits
from Graphite,
released December 25, 2011
Vocals - Kevin P. Gilday
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021