Two brothers in arms. One invincible, the other mortal. Status quo would normally place them at opposite ends of society, but circumstances have intertwined their fates permanently.
One is a hero, brave and ferocious.
A warrior unstoppable. Undefeated. Unconquered.
The other, a muse that invokes a violent, violent passion, and for the hero, something worth fighting for. Something worth dying for.
He was gorgeous. Oh, how gorgeous! And what's more, endowed with a heart of gold. But candles that burn twice as bright burn half as long.
Upon being fatally wounded, the muse is cradled by the hero. Here, with their adrenaline still pumping, a flurry of denial and consolations escape from the hero's mouth and, if only for a moment, the magic between them perseveres. Still, the muse would die, and nothing could change that, for the woman by the sea who they call the Witch of the Wave, never wrong in her prophecies, had foretold it. Soon, the adrenaline begins to wane, and with it, the magic.
Words spoken, a promise broken, and a desperate plea to God:
"Let me take his spot in Hell."
lyrics
(pronounced like "Achilles", kah-boo-kill-eez)
shooting stars across your arms
trust me with the sacred scars
on your pristine porcelain shell
i promise i won't tell
pretty boy, i melt into you
here we'll howl at the moon
and stay up all night hoping it will howl back too
rest your head upon my clavicle
i'll hold you by my side
at least this still feels magical
at least you're still alive
they've sent you here just to take you away
and enshrine your body into the paint
of a stunning picture with colors you could taste
but worry not, we're getting out of this place
still, if worse, worse, worse comes to worst
worth, worth, worth, know your worth
for you, i'd move the sun and the moon
all the stars and jupiter and mars and neptune!
where? where? where does it hurt?
why!? why!? why were you cursed!?
i wish it were me...
you don't deserve to die so unsightly
you're bleeding, conceding
at least your heart's still beating
slowly for the moment but i'm praying you get better
i hope you never die
i hope you live forever
a newly found beauty
i want to learn how to be holy like you
so show me how you do it
don't leave me alone
please, you have to live through this!
god was on the phone but i think the call dropped
where was he when the magic had to stop?
i don't think i'll go to heaven, i don't treat others well
so just let me take your spot in hell
the scars on your porcelain
the stars on your porcelain
the scars on your porcelain skin
you said that they were opening
you said that they were opening
you said that they were opening again
"Flower Of Life" yanks riot grrrl south through the unmistakable garage psych sound indispensable to the last 20-odd years of rock music out of Los Angeles. Bandcamp Album of the Day Mar 2, 2023
