Vanished in silver newsprint trees.
Your childhood school; gnawed to knucklebone and white ash.
Diesel drip holes black in the snow.
You couldn't believe, wouldn't believe that they might look for you.
So you sang your disbelief loud.
Sometimes I flicker. Sometimes my feet float above the ground, and sometimes I worry that I might be wide awake.
When the end comes, hope that I’m asleep.
Well, there's no rope or cuff or cell, no authority to detain me, no heaven and no hell,
so take me back to where I believe my human form is sleeping under the leaves.
If you hadn't smiled so wide the fresh bereaved might have left you with a few teeth.
When you thanked them for saving you the silver to town, the gold for the tooth doctor, they had to leave - scared you'd make them start to believe in you...
...won't disprove it;
Sometimes my feet float above the ground, and sometimes I worry that I might be wide awake.
When the end comes let me be asleep.
Well, there's no rope or cuff or cell, no authority to detain me, no heaven and no hell,
so take me back to where I believe my human form is sleeping under the leaves.
We come back cos you told us.
Come back, come back cos you told us.
Shame is currency here.
You can’t outrun a burning tail, so leave your walls, leave your light,
With pupils wide, you turn into a cryptid, and you hide.
In 2019, I was in Salisbury and attended the Alphabet Business Convention without knowing any artist. Lost Crowns was my favourite band that played there. Pablo P.