Composed, performed and produced by Wavesword "Marsy" Mars

Lyrics reproduced by the artist

And here two babes who found each other in the bulrushes
Who didn’t make it out of the hood
But got kicked out, took off right
For the patch of old Milne country wood where she told him
She’d preferred be proposed to,
The ring in his pocket fashioned by the topsy turvy
Perversions of the rotary kiln of a world that won’t stop turning,
Improbably formed, improbably strong, improbably determined
To make forever safe, loved and secure that kept within
As Elsheimer paints the night, having dispatched five rounds of
Lie-n-Pinocchio, she told me she had something to show me
(Me noticing all the while we’d left the car in drive the entire time)
I smote the thought she might embarrass my marriage proposal
With a proposal of her own, when she strummed up her brother’s tune
“Some people dislike such music,” she said
“But it’s better than it sounds”

My love, we’ll love by a single rule:
‘Who loves me half loves me none’
We’ll be the text that they teach to lovers in school
To keep them from just loving love

We were discussing then the Italian styling
Of this romantic violence, and that
This country’s values move too fast
Killing anything idling; she sang again,
Her tenor whose tone roisters like Rolls Royces,
I always knew weeping ripens the voice , here conclusive proof
Your song lured me away, into the vault of collective
Memory where it must’ve been forged; I thought of
Your folks, prone to overlook much, taken
In by the spectacle of their daughter, the rich bride, 
The inheritance I believe I shall reject
No closer to either of your remote surmise
My mind a pleasured isle that thought of nothing for perhaps
The very first time was occupied by surprise when you said
“One thing on my list: tell me what in mention of family,
Or future, sees you take on every time the aspect assumed by
A horse, startled, falling from a cliff;” witty she, bold and open-hearted,
I realised that I was less ready than ever to tell; and that this no longer mattered
She burred, and flicked her eyes, so I’d infer she’d prefer
Us step inside for my inner life to alight to light to be assized

In these wood do secrets glow
Just as not to let their slightness show
In the dark, in the light
Having divulged, I expect I might
Soon find that I’m calling through the night
“Come back, come back”

“Alright, my word, and my reduction to it,
The foulest of all things I intuit, is that
I may be doomed to inherit custody of
My family’s funfair of vice against my will;
That I may turn indifferent my child’s interests,
Culture their fear for my amusement,
Raise them as weapons against one another
And make my joy in withholding plain; 
And that this is cargo I cannot disburse, whatever
Pedigree of pirate good it attracts, 
And that, however much I appropriate, emulate
My dead brother’s tact, his will, his belief in man the
Magnate of optimism and the required fierceness of good,
He still isn’t coming back.”
As I shivered, reduced only to my word, moonlight
Rivering through those tiny windows, she
Made the closening moon’s glow into a ring
And proposed she turn me into a bat-shaped husband thing.
That’s appropriate timing, I said,
That’s a thousand clouds their thunder nicked,
That’s excess most wretched I never expected.
“Yes,” she grinned, “Daddy raised a jackass .”

Our War and How We Won It

"Daddy Raised a Jackass"

"Like a Dostoyevsky novel you can dance to..."

Baroque-hop, London blend

^)^

"Daddy Raised a Jackass"

Marsy Mars