rawest fucking hozier lyrics in no particular order:
- i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight
- heat of her breath in my mouth; im alive
- i’d be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground
- idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword
- and when the earth is trembling on some new beginning with the same sweet shock of when adam first came
- every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside
- the stench of the sea and the absence of green are the death of all things that are seen and unseen
- if I was born as a blackthorn tree i’d wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies
- some like to imagine the dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do
- before the wave hits, marveling at god; before he feels alone one final time and marries the sea
- betray the moon as acolyte on first and fierce affirming sight
- i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me, I have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me
- screaming the name of a foreigner’s god; the purest expression of grief
- sweet and right and merciful, i’m all but washed in the tide of her breathing
- but you don’t know the hell you put me through; to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you
- so i try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i’m imagining you
- my head was war, my skin was soaked, I called your name ‘til the fever broke
- be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking
- remember me, love, when i’m reborn as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn
true but how could you forget:
- my peace has always been dependent, on all the ashes in my wake
- I’m somewhere outside my life, babe, I keep scratching but somehow I can’t get in
- And the nights were as dark as my baby, And half as beautiful too
lemme just add
- true that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me, that the sound of the saw must be known by the tree
- if secrets were like seeds, then i’m lying on the marble marvel of the flowers you have made
- why would make out in words a cage for your own bird, when it sings so sweet the screaming, heaving fuckery of the world
