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lyrics

The Skin Box

I feel as though I were stretched
Stretched tight over a wooden frame
My skin drum-like
My head, my limbs, my genitals
Strange caricatures, awkward designs, scribbled only as an afterthought
Inside, something moves
A black beetle!

And as I lie, shrinking and cracking in the sun
I think, "This then is my fate,
to crumble into dust
with only a loathsome insect to represent me in the afterlife."

- W.A.Davison

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from Disembraining Songs Demo - Feb. '94, released March 1, 2022

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Songs Of The New Erotics Toronto, Ontario

Songs of the New Erotics is a (mostly) solo experimental music and performance art project by W.A.Davison established in 1991. See www.recordism.com for more info.

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