The complete lyrics to four songs from the Murmuration album.

Four Songs from Murmuration

 

 

 

         Murmuration

 

         There’s a rumour

         of murmuration

         on The Levels.

         Along the screed track and wetland weed walk

 

         a five o’clock flock of bunting

         disturb the dusk of evening.

         Then raising

         from the reed bed come iridescent black starlings

         on the wing

 

         in a swarm form swoop,

         shift the air as protection,

         drift beyond dark dalliance

         in a display of murmuration.

 

         There are gatherings, we know that.

         Murmurings, we know that

         it won’t be over

         until the dance is done.

 

          

 

         Off The Coast Of Fukushima

 

 

         There are ponies grazing on the stubble grass of Chernobyl.

         People watch the whales off the coast of Fukushima.

         Concentrated energy of uranium powered the supernova.

         Now the neighbors want to dig the stuffing out of Greenland.

         The wind turbines scribe the coastal sky as the sun dips.

         Fracking the Southern Downs will not provide any energy for it.

 

         Now the green eyed girl from Afghanistan wears the burqa (and who can blame her?)

         Mix a cast of darkening crystal to make a scary movie.

         And each coffee table camera-classic press-portrait will confirm it.

         The devil is wearing new clothes down at the crossroads.

         He knows she knows no knowledge that could harm him or anybody else here.

         Look at the damn picture, take down the damn picture, look at that wretched picture.

 

         They say the grizzly bear is nearly human in North Dakota.

         There are Bristol scientists studying particles of plutonium.

         A victim’s mother slaps the face of a condemned man and saves him.

         An infinity pool in the high-rise heavens becomes a dive drop.

         The political gofer is swimming in a red and blue sea of bright shite.

         Waving our world goodbye as they watch the tsunami ride it.

         

         Edgehill

 

         All of you

         put down your arms.

         Not one of us

         has the right to take life.

 

         Royal standard raised,

         rattle of drum,

         heat of horse,

         the stink of dung.

 

         Led shot, musket,

         sword and pike;

         what wins the day

         will surely lose the night.

         

         Oh, I need a word,

         I always will,

         to describe the horror

         that befell Edgehill.

 

 

         Portrait Of Dora Maar

 

         At all angles he has drawn her

         femme fatal found in sculpture.

         Oil on canvas shaped in detail,

         green and yellow skin like crayon.

         Coloured Dora, warpaint woman

         Everywhichway cut in corners.

         Half a head is turned toward him

         hand to cheek, red nails but no ring.

         Sharp as love without adornment,

         picture this; no frame or reference.

         She photographs Guernica’s disaster,

         recorded beneath the paint and plaster.

         Her circled eyes, one blue, one red

         watch Picasso, not from a bed.

         A chair is crossed in twice affirmation.

         Black oil describes a line defined.

         Abstracted heart marks this postcard

         printed portrait of Dora Maar.

 

 

         The lyrics to all twelve songs on the album will be available with the CD disc.