DESCRIPTION:
Written and performed by Genevieve Dawson and Felix Obelix (Wendy Spitzer) in September 2016 at Goldsmiths, University of London. For more information about the collaborative project (Wendy's MMus dissertation), please visit http://felixobelix.com

Lyrics:

Well then
I woke up and
The moon was shining As bright as the sun
How strange
That the setting of one
Could be confused for
The rising of the other

Well then
At five a.m.
Replaying our tape
Debating our loop
How strange
The auctioneer in my brain
Could sabotage me
He’s supposed to be a friend of mine

I lie flat lined
Heart murmurs, this is not right
A roar in quietude
My eyeballs have become
Unglued

I dreamt that you were still in
My bedroom
You held me close
My head fit in the space
Beneath your chin
A thrill as old as the hills

Well then
I’ll make the most
Of the hour, make toast
Scour the counter down
How strange
The maladies they can take
Years to break through
Hoops of paper realigning us

A letter I write:
“No deep sleep in a fortnight
A famine, send rations
I panic for your compassion
I palpate my lesion
I need your anaesthesia
Give love to her highness
For me. Yours truly, a mess.”

I know that our twin beds will
Converge
Anew and then
My head will fit in the space
Beneath your chin
We’ll be our old selves again
Again
Again