DESCRIPTION:
*

From Breathe, Bastard, Breathe (Poison City Records, 2007)

GASPING ORGAN
Cut short of breath again. Broken fingers wave a double-vision test. Gasping for arrest. Detaching restlessly like retinas from participation. Every fibre strains to break. So save a number for me. Play your team sports up the face of progress. I couldn't care less. If I could find a way to exist peacefully on the sidelines, you could compete away, shoving each other in the dirt. Player's play themselves into a corner with such an impressively sharp point, crowded into a saddle* joint.

[*This was supposed to be 'saddle joint', but the liner notes for "Breathe Bastard Breathe" say 'shadow joint', because the way I sang it on the recording sounds exactly like 'shadow joint' and nothing at all like 'saddle joint' (I think we'd set aside only one or two days for tracking vocals.]