What I Was Afraid Of · Track 82 · middle
Sling
Sling — David vs. Goliath and widespread ancient weapon. Register: ancient. This song is sung BY this weapon, in first person, about the one thing IT was afraid of. Find the fear that is true of this specific object, not a generic one.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
I am sheep-smell and woven flax. A thumb-loop. A release knot. Before the bronze and before the line, I was knotted by a fire in the dirt. Just a cradle of leather and twine, Smelling of lanolin and work. He slips his finger through my eye, I pull tight against the tendon joint, We are one radius, him and I, Waiting for the breaking point. To be the circle, to be the hum, To pull the tension against the thumb. My only purpose is to build the speed, To sing the air and plant the grief, But this is the terror of the braided string: I only matter when I drop the thing. I am the violence of letting go. Five ounces of wet basalt Settles heavy in my center pouch. He swings me low, a sudden vault, We rise above the armies' crouch. The rhythm takes us, three beats fast, The world is blurring in a furious wheel. The rock is dreaming of the cast, I am just the wind they feel. To be the circle, to be the hum, To pull the tension against the thumb. My only purpose is to build the speed, To sing the air and plant the grief, But this is the terror of the braided string: I only matter when I drop the thing. I am the violence of letting go. He opens his grip on the second cord. The weight flies out to meet a god. It sinks into the giant's brow, And I am spilling to the ground. Two limp strands hanging near his knee, Nobody writes a single song for me. The stone gets the blood, the stone gets the myth, I am just the empty rag he's standing with. A hollow pocket on a shepherd's hip. Waiting for another rock to slip. I gave away the heavy strike. I let it out. To be the one who does the spinning, and walks away with nothing.