The Cause - Laura Gibson

In the pale of

Whatever half-love you have left

For the olden days

Would you wake up

Or trace the plumb line to your death

To your final scene

What is love, then, but to drag a dead deer by its horns

From the passing lane

Just to drive on, neither to arrive or to escape

Not to save someone

You belong to the cause

Come on, believe!

Pull your heels from the farthest

Corner you’ve been in

You belong to us

You belong to the cause

You were wrong, I meant no harm

We were young once

We were wilder in our boots

In the race to fame

Now we’ve dried up

We no longer have our youth to sell

From the penny stage

Were you mine?

You were never the kind to call me yours

Were you born afraid?

So carry on, carry all your desire to a flame

To an unnamed voice

You belong to the cause

Come on, believe!

Pull your heels from the farthest

Place they’ve carried you

You belong to us

You belong to the cause

You were wrong, I meant no harm

Black shadows, back-battles

You have held in your lungs too long

You were searching, I was purchasing

A flight to old luck town

No martyrs, no fire-starters

No loose wheels, no healer saints

No wise words, no birds embroidered

In our clothes, no rose parades