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Dead Man Circling

by Naevus

/
1.
A morsel of fresh earth upon the lips of the dead Which stimulates and yet eludes my fear Is placed with care and comfort as I occupy this bed And everything around is far and near I’m earnest in disease I celebrate my needs You’re seeking to assist In things that will be noticed Mistakes are made that life is what I should be reaching for Such thoughts dissolve into the earth But earth and dirt and soil and soil alike may share rapport And illness and its stillness give me birth I’m earnest in disease I celebrate my needs You’re seeking to make clear The things that bring me fear As pleasant as the blood which springs from unattended wounds Your words revive my needs as I unfold My body out upon the slab with such a graceful swoon To still my beating heart, to make it bold I’m earnest in disease I celebrate my needs You’re seeking to assist In things that will be noticed The earth, I feel it surge and swell itself without these walls And find my body lying in the garden And further still, into the earth, but back there in the hall You move and movements always are forgotten I’m earnest in disease I celebrate my needs You’re seeking to make clear The things that bring me fear
2.
He lacked the way Pre-emptive grave Found use for things That we could never say He harboured grief Had neither branch nor leaf Was eaten up by animals And there he found relief He stuttered hard Collapsed into your car Partly in the footwell Partly out the door, ajar He then stayed silent Reputed to be violent Scraped, ignored and so on Face resting on the pavement Car keys Passenger seat Dead man circling Handbrake Indicate Dead man circling He represented haste And misused waste And all the other fleeting things That people failed to taste He was always vaguely flailing And very quietly railing Against the things that are left behind By us, the never failing He comes up short Always lacking retort Then slumps again into the stance That we would never court He’s found always sideways And sinking beneath most days A mess of rags and fallen flags Well beneath your gaze Safety lock Check the clock Dead man circling Seat belt Tremor felt Dead man circling   He has a shave And crawls out from his grave And sits up straight in the driver’s seat So easily saved You turn your back And do not once look back And soon enough just two small steps Will put you on track You lift a leg To kick him back to bed Then hesitate and move away He is already dead He slips into your skin And flexes within And very soon in unity You both continue in Intuition Ignition Dead man circling Shiver Mirror Dead man circling Seat position Penetration Dead man circling Emergency stop Dead drop Dead man circling
3.
When he fell into the welcoming ditch There was nothing beside him When he looked up at the grey, drizzled sky There was nothing that could have reminded him When he tried to account for his position His actions displaced him When he sought to describe his location His interests erased him
4.
The roaring in your mind roars on The pennies in your pocket have gone The sense of well-being that your system neglected Alights instead upon a distance, well-protected What do you see in an instant? Images of bodies that your mind kept What did you feel when your nerve went? Actions that remained unrepentantly repentant Bleat, beep What did you cut out from behind the glass? Nothing, of course You go out to the old mine shaft At Cemetery Tropicana You look up and it all ends suddenly at the sky What is it that defies revision? Words and a simple movement What was it that you heard behind Joy Division? Just a simple movement A simple, human movement Bleat, beep
5.
The hotel sign is smashed And your trousers are covered in ash As you watch the settling of water And the scabs on your hands Are not part of your higher plan And you wish that this stage would be over Oh no Leave it all alone Nothing is gained through rumination But consider the gaps That this life always lacks How can we ever find our station? Our true station Our one true station The knots in the wood Resemble eyes more than they should As you wonder again at your health And you consider again Whether making your claim Should be done via honesty or by stealth Oh no Leave it all alone Nothing is gained through rumination But consider the gaps That this life always lacks How can we ever find our station? Our stationary station Our one true station The gains that are lost The depth of the cost Can never be properly evaluated The height from which you fell The sweetness of the smell Will never again be recreated Oh no Leave it all alone Nothing is gained through rumination But consider the gaps That this life always lacks How can we ever find our station? Our stationary station Our complimentary station Our one true station
6.
Hello, meek mortal I've come to unblock your portal Meat from my finger Rising through the mire Try to pick a way through All those things that you used to do Try to greet an unwholesome night As though it were some form of respite I'm changing I was always there Say what's plain sailing And waive what's remaining I don't know anyone On the telephone anymore Thirsty and moreish A soft, systemic breeze Did it cut you deep? Or did it leave you free? I'm changing I was always there Close your head To the living and the dead Wash your exoskeleton And watch my exultation Something to see your clothes through Or something that you used to do Remain apart In your cloistered heart Pull back the sheet I'm changing I was always there I was always changing I was always there
7.
Converted ground floor flat Northern voice seems to be Coming out of a guitar Did this become known later? Tall toilet room Remnants of a German mathematician Stuck to the wall Don’t open the curtains I might go to the petrol station later Blue carrier bag Of broken glass and leaked red wine Why didn’t you go back and get some more? Play it slower It smashed on the floor in the phone box Try putting the flanger on the amp His pod is burning up Don’t go to the door The coffee slops on the table You’ll damage your throat But that was later Ramar House
8.
He was lying asleep on the riverbank When they took away his clothes So he was compelled to walk home naked Along the open road That was when they set their dogs on him And though he tried to run They left him face-down in the hedge Blistering in the sun When he came to in the evening Some lout was trying to bugger him He deftly threw the lout aside And with hands alone he smothered him He resumed his walk along the road But did not get very far As in the dark of that summer night He was mown down by a car There is no moral to this story And nor should you think that there should be And, furthermore, de Sade was wrong Just as he intended to be Sometimes bad defeats the good But more often defeats the indifferent And the fact is that this innocent man Was not even existent
9.
Why do you listen so intently at that door? Do you hope to hear a sound from beyond it That will indicate to you That there is a chance That blame could be apportioned to Someone other than yourself? Listen to me for a moment I intend to make you understand That the fault is yours entirely But also that This is not the whole story Events, yes, there’s more, events Will conspire against you No matter what you do Some would say That there is no point in trying to control Or even to contribute to them But I do not agree Everything has an effect We can alter the conspiracy Repeatedly and relentlessly Changing events at every moment Still, they remain a mess I hope that this address Has been of some benefit To you
10.
Lost and riven Blistered upon Gut-swell meds Displaced and hovered A borrowed moral Mottled and bold Blind knuckles Done with beating the ground Listing Instincts Suppress both house and tree Limpets on limpets Thirty years of fish And through Gout-bound teaching When the dead are at war with the living It's so easy to rot The streets are lined with demons Seething through cloud Definitions of bliss Or this; this

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Wooden Lung WL012

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released June 27, 2016

Recorded by Lloyd James at Wooden Lung from 2008 to 2015. Mixed and mastered by Lloyd James at Wooden Lung in 2014 and 2015. Edited by Edward Grayclaws in 2016.

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Naevus London, UK

Lloyd James: voice, guitar. Ben McLees: bass. Hunter Barr: drums. Sam Astley: guitar.

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