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saluut - wicker lyrics

[verse 1]
i used to wanna be an actor, lookin’ up to stars with the x factor
and cowering away into complex characters with a richer life than mine
other kids wanna be doctor or barrister, i’m a barista with a wage borderline on the poverty line
eight hours, 9 to 5, thank god i’m still alive
but can’t speak on christ without crossin’ a line, i’ll summarise
from 4 ’til 15 i’m singin’ “this little light of mine”
but i see no lights fl!cker, the sistine chapel denied
a child in pristine condition, not tarnished by ego or pride
manipulation or lies, two parent house i reside
middle class, only child, so how’d this joey get wild down under the skin?

[verse 2]
my previous kin runnin’ my blood thin, her name was caroline
a young baby died outside
accident at a family party, everyone guzzlin’ wine
dress caught the bonfire, her hazel eyes start to reflect red inside
no one can save her in time, distressin’ and frightin’ and crying
quenching the flames to see a dead child, she’s already fried
replenished supply, they had another daughter to mend the bind
but they couldn’t shake the guilt nor the despondent mind
her name was dorothy, she lived in the shadows of hallways and shrines and she could never be caroline
and as she grew older she internalised her parents ires
got married, let’s have two kids, she’d decide
the little girl was titled ‘mother’
at least growing up, that’s what i called her
and these stories shed a light on why it might be that i’m so wired
i never met her father
died when she was younger than 5, guess she never really knew him either
multiple sclerosis whittlin’ away the nerve fibres
he was fighter but soon retired, the military had mired any chance he had to revive
she’d pack his tobacco pipe and set it alight
she’s still keepin’ the habit alive and so am i
ain’t it funny?
ain’t it funny?
[verse 3]
ain’t it funny how life works, like we’re our parents mirrors
my grandmother beat my mother into apparent submission
face transparent, she was bulimic and addicted to liquor
anything to make the thoughts a little less sicker, the blood a little less thicker
struggling, she employed the help of her vicar, he’d care for brother and sister
gained her trust, he held himself chipper and offered a shoulder to whimper
preached the faith but was the biggest sinner
and what he did to my mum has stuck with her, my stomach queasy, my bones shiver
just thinking of that devil coming to dinner, every night for every winter
rapist c_nt, if he wasn’t already dead i’d be the one to pull the trigger
i’ve got no remorse for hitlers but, sh_t, maybe that’s the kicker
maybe the vicar’s vicar stole his youth and that’s what drained his vigour
sometimes i sit and think about caroline, my beautiful wicker
maybe if she didn’t wear no dress, her ashes wouldn’t glitter
maybe if a little wriggler in the fissure of tree bark had whispered “come hither”
and she went to inspect the critter
the almighty sun above wouldn’t have kissed her
her older sister wouldn’t have existed and my mother, she couldn’t hit her
and i’d have missed it all

- saluut

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