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blackbird raum - the man in the bog lyrics

“blackbird rum album
testing
one two three
seventh of may, 2014, seattle, washington city
that in itself, there is something messed up about that, i’m sorry”

within a hundred paces i am adrift
upon a rolling, senseless landscape
the dunes look steep in winter
the resting hill as if a shoulder
or the hollow of a back
stroked by the wind’s cold, grooving fingers
i dread the shores of a glass lake
still unhumbled despite the breeze
i imagined the vast nuclear fist
white+hot and blinding
brutally hammering the dull sound into this fused glittering mirror
i gaze at the desert, trying to imagine the jungle
that it replaced
favored, better than it a war
it said
the tiny war
choosing my spot
the sink it happens
true to the perished topsoil
to the fatality of buried far beyond
it is time
all left the extent of the damage
my mind sleeps into the green
except it isn’t green
browns, oranges, some reds
bottom colors
the colors of a world approaching its final season
is there no hint of green?
no possibility of a new spring?
the constant and with one wider
searching further
preoccupied with the eternal of the scene
the elderworld has surrounded me with seeds
and attentions
somewhere far, far beyond
where the radiation cannot penetrate
there must be life
some still fertile strata
that will remain untouched
but a place without
earth’s poisonous shadow
some working this out
in response to my probe
there was the briefest reverberation
the faintest echo of green
trying to focus
on the exact spot
where experience the tremor
i close in rapidly
sifting the unfamiliar impulses
the stiff knot
that confusing
i am close to the lifeless leak
and yet it evades me
i hesitate
as if awaiting guidance from above
almost, almost there
“okay.”

- blackbird raum lyrics

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