Edgeland Wight (Creep-hop Redux)

[Intro] Cold sodium bleeds along the fence, Blackthorn stitches crooked mouths. The little screen goes slate and dead, Blue as winter in the hand. [Verse] Tarmac sinks where bogland breathes, Pylons blink above the heath. Something turns beneath the floor— Something turning, nothing more. Is it signal? Is it stone? Is it sickness speaking through the phone? The wind says stay. The dark says night. I can't tell shadow from the wight. Where the road frays out... Where the road frays out... [Chorus] BLACK OUT THE SCREEN. PULL DOWN THE BLIND. Leave every face and name behind. Past the pylons, through the frost, Past the place where roads get lost— Where the earth forgets the light, I was born to leave tonight. Step off the line... Step off the line... [Verse] My sister's face behind the pane— A little moon beneath the rain. I drag my thumb across the glass; Her eyes are somewhere I can't pass. I zoom in close. Her features slip. A crooked smile. A bitten lip. Behind her eyes, beneath the skin, Something old is looking in. Or maybe nothing. Maybe me. Maybe that's the worst thing I could see. The photograph begins to breathe. But there’s Nothing underneath....? [Pre-Bridge] Flaking paint beneath my hands, Iron rust and childhood summers. For one brief moment I was small— Grass-stained knees and distant thunder. Beneath a starless, weathered sky, The pylons blinked like failing stars. I felt a fragile, feathered thing— Hope— Lift from my heart And disappear. Step on the tracks... There's nothing to fear... [Bridge] No bars. No light. No engine roar. The pylons hum beneath the floor. Old limestone sweating in the dark, Heather black around the mound. I drop the phone into the silt— Its blue eye glowing in the peat. A voice inside the weather calls, A mouth of clay beneath my feet. It knows my name. It knows my face. It knows why I came to this place. Don't look back. Don't look back. [Breakdown] Is it signal? Is it sickness? Is it soil beneath the stone? Is there something in the barrow— Or have I finally come home? The blackthorn moves without a wind. The photograph smiles in the dark. An army of faceless faces. Final Chorus BLACK OUT THE SCREEN. PULL DOWN THE BLIND. Leave every living thing behind. Past the pylons, through the frost, Past the road where names are lost— No road home. No line to cross. No one left to tell me what I saw. Step off the line... (Step on the tracks...) Step off the line... [Outro] Zero percent. Frost on the hill. No signal. No sound. The motorway turns beneath the rain. The barrow breathes without a mouth. I hear my voice calling. I hear myself reply. Lie down. Lie still. Lie down. Lie still.