Blackhaine

Ine stin klika tu playboi carti

Ine dancer/choreographer, creative director ke xoni piisi pano se musikes

pressed with the heat all day heard so many shots them echoed out to the east
heard all the sirens searching for answers darkest light pressed into a street
i just need someone
too much ritual all tied up on my tongue when i speak
i know the abattoir calling me
i know the abattoir calling me
facing asylum seekers bridges burnt in my chest and im broke to the core
stood outside on the grey stone pressed with the heat all day so i could never thaw
cant see the hills outside
lot of these houses blinded up by their boards
i used to scream in the fields at night cause no one heard me out on the moors
when im out on the moors

came in night the black car
so black that i couldn’t tell what the make was
in the long grass outside my old yard
gravity still weighing hard on my stainless
broke my face up so many times that i gotta tell my friends what my name was
felt pain when the shadow stepped out grip me by my shoulder, ask me where my blade was
i replied let a young man sink in the concrete steps to flat way above
i know a young girl up there with no window and time that gave me her love
ironic when the capsule that we were moving along always came as a dove
easy to connect dots in your palm when the thoughts in your mouth always taste numb
when im out on the moors

i came out the womb and i almost died on the table
this world so cold had a young child frozen ice in your navel
so the doctors ripped my skin inside with the wires and cable
and the change in heat still fuck me up
nowadays my mind unstable
so i treat road like cradle
push one rock
then i ride up and down on the same hill
came out the womb all covered in mud
pain that i knew all cause of your love
painting my room all coloured in blood
when im out on the moors

baby girl I’m a loner
late night organ donor
i just wanna get a rover
drive right to you closer
soul mates become soul less
isolation takes over
spilling all my emotions
all over my gosha
hanging on a hangover
resurrect when im sober
death in june to october
but this summer im colder
skinhead in the focus
take a shot no photos
rocks on us no stoners
in the moors till im froze up

when im out on the moors