A modern art-punk/alt label/eletropunk rendition of the colorful Victorian love poem, “A Match” (1895) by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909).

There is a raw demo mix in FLAC format. Wet and dry vocals in both FLAC and MP3 are attached for download. There is also a ZIP file with FLAC and MP3 loops of all other sounds used in the preview/demo mix. Dry vocals used for the streaming preview.

*meow*

—-


IF love were what the rose is,
And I were like the leaf,
Our lives would grow together
In sad or singing weather,
Blown fields or flowerful closes,
Green pleasure or gray grief;
If love were what the rose is,
And I were like the leaf.

If I were what the words are,
And love were like the tune,
With double sound and single
Delight our lips would mingle,
With kisses glad as birds are
That get sweet rain at noon;
If I were what the words are,
And love were like the tune.

(WE’D HUNT DOWN LOVE TOGETHER.
PLUCK OUT HIS FLYING FEATHER.)

If you were life, my darling,
And I your love were death,
We’d shine and snow together
Ere March made sweet the weather With daffodil and starling
And hours of fruitful breath;
If you were life, my darling,
And I your love were death.

If you were thrall to sorrow,
And I were page to joy,
We’d play for lives and seasons
With loving looks and treasons
And tears of night and morrow
And laughs of maid and boy;
If you were thrall to sorrow,
And I were page to joy.

(WE’D HUNT DOWN LOVE TOGETHER.
PLUCK OUT HIS FLYING FEATHER.)

If you were April’s lady,
And I were lord in May,
We’d throw with leaves for hours,
And draw for days with flowers,
Till day like night were shady
And night were bright like day;
If you were April’s lady,
And I were lord in May.

If you were queen of pleasure,
And I were king of pain,
We’d hunt down love together,
Pluck out his flying-feather,
And teach his feet a measure,
And find his mouth a rein;
If you were queen of pleasure,
And I were king of pain.

(WE’D HUNT DOWN LOVE TOGETHER.
PLUCK OUT HIS FLYING FEATHER.)