Mexican Weather Balloons

No Borders (Demo)

Experimental madness with some hand plucked bass guitar

Flinch

From: Letters to Lou

Quatre Jours Mon Amour

Quatre jours mon amour pas de lettre de toi
Le jour n’existe plus le soleil s’est noyé
La caserne est changée en maison de l’effroi
Et je suis triste ainsi qu’un cheval convoyé

Que t’est-il arrivé souffres-tu ma chérie
Pleures-tu Tu m’avais bien promis de m’écrire
Lance ta lettre obus de ton artillerie
Qui doit me redonner la vie et le sourire

Huit fois déjà le vaguemestre a répondu
"Pas de lettres pour vous" Et j’ai presque pleuré
Et je cherche au quartier ce joli chien perdu
Que nous vîmes ensemble ô mon cœur adoré

En souvenir de toi longtemps je le caresse
Je crois qu’il se souvient du jour où nous le vîmes
Car il me lèche et me regarde avec tendresse
Et c’est le seul ami que je connaisse à Nîmes

Sans nouvelles de toi je suis désespéré
Que fais-tu Je voudrais une lettre demain
Le jour s’est assombri qu’il devienne doré
Et tristement ma Lou je te baise la main

(1915)

Quatre jours mon amour    -   Guillaume Apollinaire

Always   - (Roddy Lumsden)

After the full-day's westward drive you find
the house familiar from a photograph,
its brass-hung door thrown wide.

A meeting party welcomes you: up front,
the matriarch, corn hair tied in a bunch,
the husband of few words

and, in behind two sniffly, smutty boys
you'll take a good few days to tell apart,
a gran'ma, blunt and blouse.

It's then you sense her, in and down the hall,
so vague, at first you take her for a shadow
or portrait on the wall,

the daughter who, that night, will steal in slow
to visit you with kisses coarse and sweet,
to gift you with her heat,

and who through the remainder of the week
won't speak again, although you send her notes,
whose name you never know.

And always this will whittle at your wits-
the way she gave her nightdress to the floor,
one finger to her lips

to call aboard the silence of the land
to forge the night-time colours in her hair-
until you grow unsure

of what was real and what was in the wind,
of all that being meant before and since
that single word she said.

Always (Roddy Lumsden)

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aim to kill
getting a fill, it fills
just sit still
angel of will, of will

in times of pain
i will play your game
the wound it festers all the same
with every death i erase a name
from my mouth the devil came

writhing and shrill
huffing until it kills
do not fulfill
angel until you kill

in times of pain
i will play your game
the wound it festers all the same
with every death i erase a name
from my mouth the devil came

in times of pain i remain this way
the wound it festers all the same
with every death i erase a name
from my mouth the devil came

from my mouth the devil came

"The world was empty on the day when they made it
But heaven needed someplace to throw all the shit
Human hearts and pain should never be separate
The wouldn't tear themselves apart both trying to fit
At least the dark don't hide it" - Jason Molina

Mexican Weather Balloons

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