The Hancock

from by i.e. kokoro

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lyrics

O, sing ye hollow places
the bodies without faces
Crushed and muddled
Huddled on cold summer streets

O, sing ye hallowed buildings
of steel, blood, and envy
Brushed and buttoned
Malign the blessed Trinity

O, sing the old white city
We dance upon the ashes
And build again
Forgetting where we've all come from

O, sing ye tired choir
Of flowers and of liars
While children die
We're making love to shopping malls

O sing, city of dry bones
Although your eyes are closed
The world is bleeding in a bath
While building castles in the snow
And though a dawn may soon be coming
It's a festival of thieves
We drink this ignorance, a mother's breast
Soft soap for all your needs
But could the gates maintain to keep us?
I'm not sure of what it means
As young men battle in the towers
A river's running underneath
And if you're quiet you can hear it
Far more certain than we know
Raise up your rigid arms, my love
Raise up your weary, rigid arms!

O, sing ye bloody masses
fragmented and alone
Raise up your lilting, unsure voice
Sing to the good unknown

credits

from EPHEMERA, released October 14, 2016

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all rights reserved

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about

i.e. kokoro Chicago, Illinois

i.e. kokoro is the moniker for chicago-based musician, Kelly Reed. With crafted lyrics, crisp vocals, and thoughtful compositions, her musical sensibilities have been likened to artists such as Emily Haines, St. Vincent, and Cat Power.

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