Health Surface - Crass

Places of sickness nurse me cold

Attendant whiteness glare in dark

Straighten out the winding sheet

Twisted round in poorest dreams

Shattered proofing of the lost

Splinter shackled, little wounds

Of cruelty and truth, they tie

The one way sickness up inside

Regressive smile, a baby’s laugh

A learnt contortion of the mouth

Places of laughter leave me cool

Hot fire dying down to ash

Beauty breezes through so swift

Endless roundabout of grief

Not much to ask, a rightful place

Where nothing matters, but can’t touch

Without a sinking heart, this sigh

Could be the wind among the leaves

This pain does not belong to me

They’ve taken everything away

To nurse the sicknesses of loss

Instilled with fear and bleachy guilt

Impatient winds up in her cloth

The tired shoes are splitting up

With weighty promises of love

Waiting for the last to fall away

Buckle noose around the strap

All that separates the flesh

From green grass or sinking mud

Stagnating, knowing the delusion

Clean sheets waiting for a body

Slapped into life and slowly gutted

A place of sickness is to die in

Tired of the cruelty and lying

Drip-fed tears of the forsaken

They say, «Well soon have you up and walking»

Took the prison for a stronghold

Took the lies for a love-song

Paid for life on a shoestring

Waiting for the last to fall away

Buckle noose around the strap

All that separates the flesh

From green grass or sinking mud