Broken Door from The Horse by The Horse

Paint from the wall
and the broken door
resting at my feet
underneath a city

Where do the cars go
when they leave Sorrento
because I’ll take that way too
on the way back to you

I came from the hinges
fell down to somewhere
counting on my fingers
standing on the bridge

From the bridge
I stare at the sea
I see your face in the waves
As they crash and roll
and your face goes
as you die on your way to the shore.

Looking for something
away from the fertile ground
of my cathedral city
Lord Protector town

And my dear Mother
who dreams of the country
a thought that won’t leave her
until she leaves too.

She’s dreaming of the country
until she leaves me too.

• Alternative
• alternative
• experimental
• folk
• London