Ed Harcourt
Sour Milk, Motheaten Silk
Sour milk, motheaten silk
And broken bread and bitter wine
Trim my tears with garden shears
Breed your thoughts in the diamond mind

I'm a song that can't be sung
A method the cannot be taught
I'm a ladder without a rung
An auctioneer that can't be bought

Like a politician's smile
It's your heart, I will pick up
And the halo slipping slowly from my head

Sour milk, motheaten silk
Dandelions and murderous heat
There's a god in every demon
Sugarcane and rotten teeth

I'm the writer's faithful block
The air that makes your chest feel tight
I'm the hand that fits the saga
Pump it full of dynamite

Like a politician's smile
It's your heart I will pick up
And the halo slipping slowly from my head
Lost in the ether lost at sea
Believe in me we're still descending
No where to go, nowhere to breathe
Oh, won't your dreams stop pretending now

Sour milk, motheaten silk
And broken bread and bitter wine
Trim my tears with garden shears
Breed your thoughts in the diamond mind

I'm a song that can't be sung
A method the cannot be taught
I'm a ladder without a rung
An auctioneer that can't be bought

Like a politician's smile
It's your heart I will pick up
And the halo slipping slowly from my head