Rivers in the Dust

Radical Face2016年3月25日

Rivers in the Dust - Radical Face

Written by:Benjamin Cooper


The sweat cuts rivers in the dust


On your face


While the wheels beneath complain

The wind still whistles through the haze


The sun shines like a razorblade

And the bones of crops and banknotes

Pave the way


The highways are lined with graves


Like the fingernails of giants


Like blood pulled through a vein


We rush the west in silence


And I am not the one you wanted here

But I will fill my post


Heaven's touch is often out of reach

To those who want it most


You wear a rose from yesterday


Like the world is green and over grown


And I wear a handkerchief around my mouth

To keep the dust and ashes out


I dream a glass of water


With you dreaming of the sea


And I'd watch my feet

And you would watch the sky

And we would wonder why our eyes no longer meet


It was hard to call the thing we saw a storm


Like it had climbed from the pages of some novel


And the sheets of dust hit everything

Like waves against the rocks

It was morning but I'd be damned

If I could tell


And you would hold my hand

And close your eyes


And I didn't mind


When hell bears its teeth


You learn your face

And this god forsaken sun could be the moon


For all it provides


Eyes are on the roads


Before it disappears again