Sometimes it seems like my blood spurts out in globs
As if it were a fountain's pulsing sobs;
I clearly hear it mutter as it goes,
Yet cannot find the wound from which it flows.
Then through the city, coursing in the lists,
It travels, forming islands in its midst,
Seeing that every creature will be fed
And staining nature its flamboyant red.
Oh, I have asked of wine the magic way
To drug my terrors, even for a day;
I've sought forgetfulness in love, but failed,
Since love for me is just a bed of nails.
credits
from Capitalism,
track released November 7, 2011
Words: Charles Baudelaire's poem "La Fontaine de Sang"
Music: Joshua D. Richardson
Drums, Programming, Special Effects, Keyboards, & Voice: Joshua D. Richardson
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