jenny hval lyrics

And how did you come?
Wild with love

This landmine of a heart
The only one I've ever had

Open up your mouth
Exhale me with your cigarette smoke
Like you gave me life, now set me free
I don't know what free is
But I think you do

In a restless half-dream, like the jam without a spoon

Always failed at the romantic
I did baroque badly
I have come to believe firmily in reality
Keeping it together, keeping it together
This is the narrative of reality

I felt tight against supple, cool against hot, wires and skin. I've always been like this

And when you do react
You react with body parts you didn't know you had
Very small ones, like all the little hairs you don't normally feel in your body

I was a thousand little mouths, a thousand baby birds
Eggs hatching, skin breaking

Golden locks
Dripping, melting out of me
Golden showers

Don't be afraid
It's only blood

Any sign is a promise of love, of being exposed
A staged ritual undressing taking the place of consummation

My body is an effigy, a hearth of some kind
I reach for the lighter

I wanted to say everything
But instead I gave up writing

It would be easy to think about submission, but I don't think it's about submission, it's about holding and being held

And all that ages now is the body

Or on your device
Swipe with two fingers
Like you were kicking feet underwater, or under the earth
To get up to the surface

I woke in the night to hear our pores heave
I was a thousand little mouths, a thousand baby birds
Eggs hatching, skin breaking

You won't have to wait for long
You will not be awake for long
We'll meet in the smallest great unknown

It's so dumb and so me to think this means anything
But it must be better to die in sound than to die dead
Dead, right?
Can you hear my voice?

And tonight
When I looked up from my notebook
There was a scythe in my hand

I woke to find that I have lost my soul
Where my soul was there is a big black hole
Hollow hollow hollow hollow hollow
The black lake took and the black lake gave

I lose myself in the rituals of bad art, in failure

Dawn came quiet
Dawn came cool
The inside of my eyelid
Is glazed with honey dew

I must find some kind of art form
Where I can call my tongue
Back from the underground

And what is that sound that is haunting my throat?

When we die we become paper
Charcoals and a marker pen

The glands of instinct, fear and desire
Clanking from a distant engine
Iron shafts and idler-wheels

Carve my shape into the water

Every beat went all the way down
Into the two holes in the ground

The dark sky lay against my skin
So close
Like an eyelid