Ant Smith

Mortality

Buried

Buried

Last night I dreamt I was drowning in sand

I have always known this were a treacherous land

There's the lover's laughter at the sight of her man

While the trinkets clatter in the grasp of his hands

And old friends they natter with the spirits that dance

And brothers they badger you had every chance

Who changed the curtains and where are your boots?

Washing lines tangle and you're smothered in suits

Tea is a drug that you've served up in blue cups

And nothing you do will be good enough

The earth it self wants to swallow me up

And bury this body where nobody looks

Mortality