Postcards from Catalonia
I've been told to be a seer one must be ruthless
So I've eaten the yellowed text of Paul
And Brutus. To soothsayers came and went now I
Believe, to be reborn we first must cultivate a
Seed. Spit it out release that precious piece of
Pebble dash from your mouth,
That's a working class jewel spinning round your hopeless head.
Ain't for chewing on it's for looking through
Instead. You prefer the common stone to the pearls,
Under the plexiglass with the factory girl who
Told her sister all about you hanging bed sheets on
A cloth line in the sun.
She keep you warm she keep you fed now you've gone and lost your bed
On the doorstep of the sick and indigent
Society. And as Christmas comes send word to all the
Ones who watch night disown day.
Thirty five days after defection now I am sat
In the cheapest of rooms. There's an oil lamp
Definitely snapping at the shadows.
I've had notions to start playing chess, but the mice they
Have stolen the pieces I have told them to
Start paying rent or they must leave. I am writing my
Letters. I am anchored in an armchair,
I intend on shooting the postman when he passes at
Dawn.
I haven't eaten for thirteen days.
I've taken the form of a Bosnian beggar, I'm the reason the
Preachers are screaming and shouting.
Tell the mother I'm home, tell the mother I'm home.
And as Christmas comes send word to
All the ones who watch night disown day.
Across the city they're sending postcards to
Catalonia. I can't get out now so here's a postcard
From Catalonia.