paroles de chanson Tryst With Mephistopheles - Owen Pallett
I
stumbled
on
the
summit's
path.
Clumsy,
clumsy.
No
paragon
am
I.
I
can't
even
keep
my
shoes
tied.
I've
been
in
love
with
Owen
ever
since
I
heard
the
strains
of
Psalm
21.
Standing
between
the
choirs,
As
they
sang,
"Laudate
Dominum,
Laudate
Dominum".
Damn,
I
wrote
it
down,
but
I
left
it
in
the
pocket
of
my
other
jeans.
Scrawled
across
the
foolscap:
"I
don't
know
what
your
devotion
means,
I
don't
know
what
your
devotion
means."
And
up,
upon
the
summit
I
can
see
The
one
I
worshiped
as
a
boy.
The
Creator,
The
Great
White
Noise.
The
Great
White
Noise.
Charged
and
charging
up
the
ridge.
The
chests
are
empty,
the
coffers
too.
They
float
in
the
flood,
and
so
will
you,
I
swear,
so
will
you.
"Your
light
is
spent!
Your
light
is
spent!"
I
cried,
As
I
drove
the
iron
spike
into
Owen's
eyes.
The
sun
sped
cross
the
plains
like
that
cinematic
moment
where
Humanity
and
nature
collide.
When
you
think,
"Everything's
gonna
be
all
right,"
Just
before
the
hero
gets
a
bullet
in
his
side.
Whizzing
off
the
clifftop,
Listening
for
the
spatter,
thirty
floors
below.
Down
come
the
vultures.
I
will
not
be
your
fuel
anymore.
Now
the
author
has
been
silenced,
how
will
they
ever
decipher
me?
I
hope
they
hear
these
words
and
are
convinced
You
never
even
knew
me.
I
draw
a
bruise
on
your
brawny
shoulder,
Scratch
my
fingers
over
your
tattoos.
The
author
has
been
removed.
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