Richard Dawson
Silphium
[Verse 1]
Merchants of Cyrene, close your palms
On the last remaining place
A sprig of Silphium grows
The silvery cold of a coin face
The boats have all vanished from the slimey harbourwalls
Apollonia emptied to reveal all

[Chorus 1]
How we are lost
Bowed to the hearthlight
Telling our girls why we'll have to be leaving
Fat teardrops roll
Off the bluffs of our cheekbones
Orangey globes
Spent with a hiss on the dying coals

[Verse 2]
No more sap of laserwort to grate
Over braised flamingo hearts
Or render into a salve
To purge the uterus lining
Nothing left to sprinkle on the boiled brains of sheep
Other than this cheap asafoetida

[Chorus 2]
How we are lost
Loading the oxcart
With a halfmoon
Filled of our meagre possession
Tying it fast
With twine from my uncle's shop
And now I must wake the girls
Darlings, quick to the courtyard
[instrumental]

[Chorus 3]
How we are lost
Scrolling the highway
Leaving behind the only home we have ever known
Lamp on a pole
Eyes glued to the bouldered road
In my mouth, a moth goes and instantly perishes
Halting the cart
I stop to listen
Cows in the dark
Bells at the edge of the ocean
Mingle with snores -
A child sleeping in my earhole
I feel alive
How we are lost in each other

[Outro]
Merchants of Cyrene that you hold
Let them go