tributary

read the explanation: https://bit.ly/37Pdrdf hear the explanation: https://bit.ly/3bT7HSS track 9 of 9 from the 2019 album "lunacy + the second naïveté" by closetjudas. ------ close your mouth – the holy war is neither of the two too much blood has been wasted on things we’ll never know no amount of eyeless trust can give us ears to hear here is where the river that i’m in goes out to sea see the edge grow distant as the moon brings in the tide tied, my hands – resigned to let the current guide me forth i won’t name the nameless anymore i’ve run out of peace, my soul is sore december’s great pretender has lost the war my hope is on the floor...on the floor (we can’t unsee what we haven’t seen can’t unhear what never has been voiced) over + out, i’m caught in a swell, i soon will be sinking what is real that hasn’t been revealed? the sand is running down there’s no light, i’m floating north of hell, it doesn’t seem you care why don’t you heal? or listen to appeal? and are you even there? too much blood has been wasted on things we’ll never (know) (no) amount of eyeless trust can give us ears to (hear) (here) is where the river that i’m in goes out to (sea) (see) the edge “the moon is full, weakly pushing back the darkness, carrying on its illusion of light. illudere, the latin verb to mock. so many illusions i have had to break, so many ways i’ve been mocked by the above, believing the myth of its illumination. we have been to the moon, divined a complex astrology of the distant stars. we have explored inner worlds and conjured angelic devices that will fit in our pockets. ‘peace be upon you,’ the angels say, but peace will not emanate from the cloud. i know that real salvation lies in accepting that we will not be saved. i know that life cannot be about the promise of riches in heaven. it must instead be about facing the abyss, shrugging at the mystery of the lack of planetary meaning, but lifting our heads and deciding to look out for one another regardless. in the days i have ahead of me i know that there will continue to be pain as well as joy. i’m realistic; things won’t ever make perfect sense. the galaxies tend towards entropic greyness. the universe doesn’t care; only we can do that” (from “getting high: a savage journey to the heart of the dream of flight” by kester brewin).