An Orchestral Depth Songtext
von William Doyle

Terrible inventions are these circular things
Absolute inevitable bliss
Paramount in certain kinds of enlightenment
If half-remembered venom persists

Something in the way that I turned my head
Rattled all the love to my neck
There it sat for days in anonymity
Now it has a note to be expressed

That′s when all the colour turned an orchestral death
Even magnolia flourished
Morning made a hole in the sky
Of the deep mauve gradient


Doors upon the landing were quietly shut
Pianos dropped in dissonance to their deaths
Roads and gardens bathed in a street yellow light
Dawn laid out a hymn sheet and took a deep breath

But the actual fabric of the places where I learned about the fabric
Of places has remained uncannily consistent. Stasis is still an
Option and it's the one that this part of England has chosen. The
World of my childhood hasn′t vanished. It's a ghost that has no
Struggle to be seen behind the coarse facades that have been
Superimposed down the years. Behind the trees that is now a crime to
Chop down because trees have rights. Vistas don't. Many views
That I recall have been lost to arboreal correctness. Beneath
Too, the dismal hatches that squat on edgelands that were
Dismal. But exciting, too. My midget former self is all too
Visible. I behave like him. I amble for the sake of ambling
At snail pace. I, too, regard suburban avenues and riverbanks
Back streets and woods as the best free show on earth