Feed the gulls on the backroof, the jackdaws too
Remember the guy in York who said his girlfriend ‘went through’
Meaning a twelvemonth in a psych ward learning how to run
Until you ask yourself: what have you done?
The speed in Llangollen was cut with ket
And the bracken behind the club was soon wringing wet
You whacked the axe in the woodblock and thought the rats might come
And now you ask yourself: oh God what have you done
Take the flag off the flagpole, throw it on the pyre
Tell the priest at the funeral that you know he’s a liar
Dip your feet in acid and pray for kingdom come
Yet still you ask yourself: what have you done
Draw the curtains on the mountain, shut out the light
Close your eyes to find the prettiest sight
Cover yourself in concrete, cuddle up to scum
And wonder to yourself: what the fuck have you done
In Sydney was a whore and in Cape Town a gun
In New York cocaine, in Chicago, rum
The emptiness beneath it all as cold as the sun
O what have you done, man, what have you done
Let kneecaps go jelly, let collarbones go rot
Slice the hand’s sinews because that’s all you’ve got
Blood and snot and tears and piss and puke and come
Maybe therein is the answer to what you have done
Take your papers in a bundle, touch them to heat
Take a spade to the earth and make it complete
It’s really very small what you think is The Big One
What have you done, man, what have you done
Squeeze your eyes tight, clench out the memories
Recall the smiles between the sea anemonies
And the smell of lilac on your fingers and your thumbs
You know what you’ve done, yes, you know what you’ve done
The world burps and sighs as it withers away
And the unknown tomorrows are in the unknown todays
Nothing can be mended, nothing overcome
See the tears in the wreckage? That’s what you’ve done
Niall Griffiths
Picture Nick Victor
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