A City Without Walls or Towers Lyrics

with every passing day
i watch a red nose grow
upon my drunken house.
plunging in its cavernous enclosure
i try to find the light
but drown in mucus and in bile
which gushes out in rivers
at the sight of unfamiliar angles,
a leg askew, a lonely ear, a drooling eye,
another running heart.

running into the stubbled street,
my soles adorned with razor blades, i
scrape the chin of every highway in
this city without walls or towers.

broken glass still reflects
quiet room, heart still pounds
endless rays unaligned
begging for answers

broken neck reaching out
without hope or a cause
silent songs are still songs
if you listen.

in my dreams i see my face,
a nacreous disc suspended in space.
in my dreams i know your place,
a hole in the wall and a vacant embrace.

underneath the city's skin i grow, a genital network of
roots, blind and swollen, slowly absorbing forms and phantoms.

"we shot the past."
"is anything left?"
"not a trace."
"is the void profound?"
"it ventilates the whole city."

i am a living book, listing lamentations, moaning, and woe.
i am a city without walls or towers.