your most terrible name

Of late I've been humming this little song to myself more often than I should. A mesmerising poem on the lovable, translucent, dark, terrifying liquid realm to which you always feel compelled to return when something, someone takes you by storm and you just don't know what to do. You just don't know. (And so just sit quietly in the shadows humming songs, waiting. Waiting and listening.)

Damn it.

Little Water Song

Under here, you just take my breath away
Under here, the water flows over my head
I can hear the little fishes

Under here whispering your most terrible name
Under here, they've given me starfish for eyes
And your head is a big red balloon

Under here, your huge hand is heavy on my chest
Ah, and under here, Sir, your lovely voice retreats
And yes, you take my breath away

Look at my hair, as it waves and waves
Sir, under here, I have such pretty hair
Silver, it is, and filled with silver bubbles

Ah, and under here, my blood will be a cloud
And under here my dreams are made of water
And, Sir, you just take my breath away

For under here, my pretty breasts are piled high
With stones and I cannot breathe
And tiny little fishes enter me

Under here, I am made ready
And under here, I am washed clean
And I glow with the greatness of my hate for you


Lyrics by Nick Cave
Performed by Ute Lemper


[Note: A nice, much mellower live version by Kate Miller-Heidke. Too nice, perhaps?...]