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City Calls Lyrics

Oh the city calls its wild wastes
its fortressed breeze to help

In the park was Caravaggio's Christ
who fucked the police and put an end to the price of automobile radio heists

And did you want to help did you think you'd help?

But your help was a hurt
A motivational welt
Wounds and their salts

"And the ill milk in your bones
and you whisper to your knees
and your two broken collarbones:
You want to take a photograph then take a photograph of me!"
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Cover art for City Calls lyrics by Swan Lake

'The city calls its many trees, its wild wastes, its fortressed breeze to help'

This song is about some sort of urban dissolution, right? It seems to me they are trying to draw parellels between Christ and some random vagrant in a park. There's definitely a bit of juxtaposition between a Messiah and the modern world, in my opinion.

Probably my favourite song by this brilliant band. So good to see these three giants collaborating.

 
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