Sigur​ð​r (language of the birds)

from New Myths Preview (Vocal / Piano Takes) by Peter Le Couteur

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The legend of Sigurðr and Fafnir.

lyrics

Dipped my finger in the language of the birds and tasted blood. I got my worm. Hiding in my hole underneath the road, with all the mud and flies, holding my spear. I could taste its iron in my mouth.

Oh, the point went in so easily, with scarcely a jar. And its body hung above me like the night sky filled with stars. And the blood came pouring down, blueblack blood covering me from my toes up to my crown.

I will, I will be king; now that I'm a rich man I can have anything. I will, I will be king; now that I'm a rich man I can have anything except peace.

I went down to the river to bathe myself and spear, a clod between my shoulderblades, between my joys and fears. Walking down the highway, tarbaby to the dust, looking forward to the time they'd call me Sigurðr the Just... When my hand slipped on the haft of my spear. But the point, it could not cut me, to my wonder and my fear.

I washed that black blood off me to find that underneath, oh my skin was hard as diamonds are, and just as tricky to release.

But I will, I will be king; now that I'm a rich man I can have anything. I will, I will be king; now that I'm a rich man I can have anything, anything, anything except peace.

Well, I went back to the carcass to have myself some lunch. Must've wasted near an hour trying to slice myself a haunch. So I reached into his mouth, I dug my diamond fingers in and I ripped the tongue right out.

I cooked that fat baby on the hottest part of my fire. Gave it a prod with my thumb to see if it could do with being done a little more. But that hot sucker burnt my thumb! Quick as a salmon, I stuck it in my mouth, just as my eyes started to run...

All the trees surrounding me, full of birds, began to whisper deep inside my ears. They said,
'Regin is a-lying there, a-laying plans.
There ever is a wolf where I spy his ears.'

I could taste the iron in my mouth.

Oh the point went in so easy, with scarcely a jar, and Regin's body lay below me with two bloody open mouths.

And I will, I will be king. But not for long enough to enjoy anything. I will, I will be king. Rich in enemies and poor in everything, in everything else.

credits

from New Myths Preview (Vocal / Piano Takes), released February 9, 2012
Thanks to the blackbirds.

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Peter Le Couteur London, UK

The illegitimate lovechild of Tori Amos and Tom Waits, raised in secret at an English boarding school on a diet of Irish folk, blues, and comparative mythology.

After eight years of faffing, and finally finishing Seven New Myths in Prague with the help of the expat indie scene there, PLC is back in London singing in bars, and doing a PhD at the Royal College of Art about imaginary museums.
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