Three Sheets to Kishkiyya · Track 91 · middle
Wooden Mouth
VOLUME IV — the HUNGOVER morning after. The idiom and the song's title hook: "Wooden Mouth". Its true history: England, 19-20th c. — dry, stiff, splintered mouthfeel; a slow monastic drone of dehydration. Render this beat of the night as the band's affectionate, funny, celebratory tribute — the idiom itself is the chorus hook.
Lyrics
[Intro] The river has left the temple. The well is entirely stone. [Verse 1] The morning light arrives without a single drop, Falling on the blankets in a heavy, golden sheet. My breathing is a low and hollow scraping sound, Like dragging heavy branches down a quiet London street. My tongue is carved from solid English oak today, Felled in some 1890 timber yard. The moisture of the evening walked a thousand miles away, Leaving only something ancient, still, and hard. [Chorus] Oh, the wooden mouth. Sacred lumber in the jaw. A forest floor behind the aching teeth, Dry as winter, beautiful and raw. We praise the quiet of the wooden mouth. [Verse 2] The old Victorians knew this stiff and splintered grace, Waking in the city with the sawdust on their breath. A phantom cabinet maker working in the human face, Building up a monument to yesterday's success. The palate feels like varnished pine and bitter bark, The throat is just a hollow, waiting flute. I try to speak a morning blessing to the room, But all the heavy timber keeps me mute. [Chorus] Oh, the wooden mouth. Sacred lumber in the jaw. A forest floor behind the aching teeth, Dry as winter, beautiful and raw. We praise the quiet of the wooden mouth. [Bridge] Do not rush to find the bedside water glass. Let the cedar sit upon the lower lip. Every word I try to whisper sheds a leaf, Every swallow is a grounded, stranded ship. The desert is a teacher in the head. [Outro] The ancient trees are singing in my throat. Be entirely still. Let the English forest stand. No rain. No rain to break the spell. Just the wooden mouth. The wooden... mouth.