Beauty in Forlorn Places

Steve Kilbey / Martin Kennedy

Appears On:

Lyrics (unofficial)

The thorns and cement
Which jabber in sibilant whispers
In a structure never completed
Abandoned in its very birth
Pitted with tiny punctures
Like Lenny's arm, yeah
And like the sky, negative
In a bad dream I materialise here
In a sheer forest
Of marble concrete
Three, two, one, none
There's beauty in some forlorn places
But not here
Cold floor at my feet
The whitest thing is the rim of the blackest hole
I've travelled down that vortex and was spat out
Holy hole
The twisted tangled made off stolen
I sing the blues to the rubble
Maybe it can understand
The drips of paint ran down my days
Pooling on the ground
It's solvent when I woke up
I'm broken and broke
I'm crying black tears on my flesh skin
I win a little, I lose a lot
The Antarctic heartbeat coming through the dirt
A blackened shadow
Which darkens
In the sickly morning sun