Interpret:

PJ Harvey

Album:

Let England Shake

Death was everywhere,
 in the air
 and in the sounds
 coming off the mounds
 of Bolton's Ridge.
 Death's anchorage.
 When you rolled a smoke
 or told a joke,
 it was in the laughter
 and drinking water
 it approached the beach
 as strings of cutters,
 dropped into the sea and lay around us.


 Death was in the ancient fortress,
 shelled by a million bullets
 from gunners, waiting in the copses
 with hearts that threatened to pop their boxes,
 as we advanced into the sun
 death was all and everyone.


 Death hung in the smoke and clung
 to 400 acres of useless beachfront.
 A bank of red earth, dripping down death
 now, and now, and now
 in the air
 and in the sounds
 coming off the mounds
 of Bolton's Ridge.
 Death's anchorage.
 Death was in the staring sun,
 fixing its eyes on everyone.
 It rattled the bones of the Light Horsemen
 still lying out there in the open


 as we, advancing in the sun
 sing "Death to all and everyone."