Rites & Wrongs

by Jack Carlyle

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1.
Forgive me father, for I am sinning, Just like I've been doing ever since the beginning, Just like I'll keep doing until the bitter end, I don't regret it but at least I can pretend.
2.
The gentle first taste Staining your cheeks My fingers are sticky Your breath is so sweet Try a bit more Licking your lips Try not to spoil me With too many drips I've never been good With a delicate touch I bruise far too easy And you're just too much The heat makes us soft I'll try to be tough No matter how sweet It's never enough but i cant keep it down anymore pour it all out im drowning myself on the floor pour it all out
3.
01:58
You lift me up You tilt me back Keep going until All you can see is black Slowly drain Until I float With fleeting words Caught in my throat Turn my head Become dizzy Empty me, empty me, empty me
4.
01:03
Maybe I grew twisted Maybe I grew blue I liked the sound of satan more But the christians run hell, too Every morning when I wake up I cross my heart and hope to die By the time the sun goes down There's twenty needles in my eyes
5.
02:51
The static gave way to a screen of blue tranquility, though some have interpreted this as an omen of death. Nevertheless, we rise to the sound of birdsong and make short work of the latest, throwing our worthless pennies into the ring, screaming to be heard by any reflective surface, what narcissism is this? The freedom of the press cost more than we'd anticipated; out of captivity it multiplied like fires and now sweeps planes of domains in seconds, leaking into pockets and spilling back out through furious clicks. The efficiency of this new machine is outstripped by none, and it is us (and the machine marches on). Clockwork couldn't keep pace with todays race, and these rats don't even need to outsmart traps, instead setting fresh bait for those they perceive as beneath them. Nobody runs shit, the shit runs them up and down the court all day, sorting them into filing cabinets tall enough to require planning permission from the Gods themselves. The Gods themselves, however, are dead, haven't you heard? They got complacent so we smoked them out and placed ourselves adjacent to their vacant thrones, like "two legs good but two barrels better", without ever pausing to consider the gravity of it, like a child joyfully leaping from a seventh story window, and we've been falling ever since.
6.
02:32
Perched atop a volcano In the pitch black of the night The only light is my cigarette and The pinpoints in the sky The wind is soft against my skin And screams a distant roar The inside of my cheeks Are bitten bloody and raw I'm so small But I'm the only thing I know And I am shattered into nothing But I am whole Dancing with the meteors With gently swaying hips Willing God to answer me Without a question on my lips
7.
I put you in a box and set it on fire Just so I could be the one to save you from burning alive But you outsmarted me and brought a knife To make sure neither of us would survive
8.
01:09
When I die throw my shoes into the sea When I die whisper gently to me When I die pull out all my teeth When I die give me secrets to keep When I die make me into a cloud When I die put sugar in my mouth When I die celebrate each new day When I die sing and dance on my grave
9.
I watched you grow Through the glow Enchanting my marrow You made me slow To far to walk To close to leave You’re the air I cannot breathe I held you in the palm of my hand And you told me I'm not even real I never even touched your skin But you're the only one i could ever feel
10.
02:08
This guilt is overwhelming For everything you feel I'm sorry for this bed of nails I'm sorry I'm not real I fucked it up right from the start My stupid cloudy head And then I pulled you closer Started pulling at your threads There's nothing I can tell you And nothing I can ask Wish that I could only hold you But I'm made of shards of glass My selfish nature won't let you be I can't live with that My fragile ribs wont let you go Please don't write me back
11.
02:32
Melons and death for 36 hours Sapphire bath water under a dripping shower Burn down the signposts And drown all the flowers Our bones are wooden splinters Welcoming the winters When everything dies and we can hide And won't apologise for being sinners There's tiny motors buried in the stones Broken and rusty like mechanical bones

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This is a collection of spells: emotional poems that I wanted to shout out loud & little synth ditties that cheered me up - powerful magic.

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released June 28, 2017

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Jack Carlyle London, UK

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