1. |
||||
2. |
||||
There was a little boy
He liked to play with dead things
First it was ants
Then he moved up to squirelles
Birds
But his favorite of all
Of all the dead things
Was his sister
_
this little boy grew to a man
not any kind of man you’d want for a neighbor
his lawn was dry and brown
newspapers piled up around his porch
and every Saturday, while you were pruning your trees
mowing your lawn
you’d look over
and see your home value dropping.
Whats he doing down there
Didn’t seem like he had a job
Friends or family
Or even a dog
Well, he had a dog
And called it sister
_
and then the cops came for him
and he was dead.
|
||||
3. |
||||
She said,
‘give me the shovel’
then smacked him across the head
it cut him wide
just above the eye
and the crows started screaming
I think he’s bleeding
bleeding is dying
dying, he’s dead
she dug a hole
not very deep
for the ground was pitted with stones
the body barely covered
a hand hung out
all hopscotch in salutation
she said
give me the shovel
and the ghost of his memory obliged
and
layed
her
out
cold
she said
give me, the shovel
she said
give me, the shovel
|
||||
4. |
||||
this end
is beautiful
all ruby red love
obsession
descend
this,
end
it all starts here
rebirth
a butterfly moth
a new beginning
never thought I'd get caught
I was too good
they were so pretty
sinful and delicious
I was born again
descend
this is where I begin
where do I begin
the way is no longer clear
I have taken your communion
Your
Circumcision
And I pull these lonely threads
Back to the beginning
And this end
Is where I begin.
|
||||
5. |
||||
Terrible sleep
Weakend by the sound of
Your laughter
Gripped by the fear
Of your heavy hands
And
My eyes, closed, shut
I CAN’T HEAR YOU
YOUR HOT SWEET WHISKEY BREATH
I CAN’T SEE YOU
YOUR HOT SWEET WHISKEY SWEAT
Orphaned by sleep
My thoughts fail me
Murder in hate
Your stench kills me
And when I wake from this
It still lingers
I CAN’T HEAR YOU
YOUR HOT SWEET WHISKEY BREATH
I CAN’T SEE YOU
YOUR HOT SWEET WHISKEY SWEAT
And when I wake
It still lingers
|
||||
6. |
||||
We’re cut
From the same cloth
You and I
Its rotted and thin
From too much dye
Sliced into ribbons
And frayed at the ends
But I’m throwing you out like
Fair-weather friends.
I’m an outsider, chameleon
You can fake time
Empty heart
Stare right through, invisible inside
Make believe you’ll be honest
Make me belive
Everythings all right.
Please take these broken hands
I’m not able
To grope my way home
Please take these broken hands
And let them speak
Of all that is wrong
Make belive you’ll be honest
Make me believe
Everything’s all right
|
||||
7. |
||||
You might be right
Oh yeah, you might be
Right down on the inside
You might be
But I don’t think so
There’s a tumor
Black ink bleeding
Just inside
It negates, everything
You might be right
You might be
But I don’t think so
You try and engage be part of the team
“I got you back I got your back I got your back!”
and all that hi-five shit
makes every right, wrong
twisted and bent
just like your fucking logic
you might be right
you might be
but I don’t think so.
|
||||
8. |
||||
I’m spinning stories, real Fucking tall tales
Something sorry, something true
Words fall useless from my craw
Like spit blood bone
Don’t you think I’m clever
Its all been done There’s not a twist untried
But you’ll listen this time
Not like the last time
Don’t you think I’m clever
Don’t you think I’m clever
There’s a message here
Buried deep, black
Dig and you might find it
Or, then again,maybe
I’m just clever
Here’s where it gets heavy
Slightly Existential
Possibly Shallow
Don’t you think I’m clever
Don’t you think I’m clever
|
||||
9. |
COMA/PURE
02:07
|
|||
This is sick
This is love
Are you sure
oh, this is love
what makes you so fucking pure
|
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