1. |
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Spider in a web.
Termites in our bread
The news reader is screaming
Buddy Sentiment is dead
And I sit, and I wait for you
You walked in on a tightrope
A sight it was to see
A bottle full of Whisky
And my killer will be me
And I sit, I can't cry, but I try
Famine, Narcs, and War
We've heard it all before
I wouldn't pay it mind
But it's knocking on my door
And I sit, and I sit, until blood...
Runs on you. You're resplendent and doomed, defunct and exhumed.
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2. |
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red light running, i'm wise but mad
my only cash went on a bag
i'm spitting chips, and you should know - that you'll be coming when i go
66, on the strip. They call me P.K. when I come in
I'm packing heat, and you should know - that you'll be coming when i go
she fights dirty with my will
high and dry, too numb to kill
i'm living loco and you should know - that you'll be coming when i go
(yesssssss)
I'm packing heat and you should know that you'll be coming when I go
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3. |
The State of the Church
02:51
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4. |
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we batter the brakes, still it aches don't it?
if i could i would give it all to you
as smart as the arts, black dog barks don't it?
if you could you would strain your brains for change
story runs right from the script
deepest breaths cause this is it
story of the wasted
story of the broken hearts
story of the gifted
who bled for the cause
we batter the brakes still it aches don't it?
if i could i would take it all from you
as smart as the arts, black dog barks don't it?
if you could you would strain your brains for change
story runs right from the script
deepest breaths cause this is it
story of the wasted
story of the broken hearts
story of the gifted
who bled for the cause
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5. |
Dancing to Sinatra
03:40
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there two guys in the corner and they're drinking for a flask
they grant me 16 sips and i didn't even ask
i'm wearing something too tight and it certainly is ripped
some folks just know that sometimes there has been nothing but shit
now i'm swaying to sinatra with a crack whore in my arms
another one who'd been produced upon the damned one's farm
there's sick upon the floor
we've emptied the cash drawer
the cops are on the way and we will tell them what you saw
la lai la lai la lai
i'm something of a henchman to the men who wrote the words
that question nervous tension as a tool for the absurb
i'm living on a ticket, i'm flying to the gate
i'm living within the pickets but my mind belongs to fate
i fold in confrontations, i move out of the way
i'm moving to a nation where for this i will get pay
there's sick upon the floor
we've emptied the cash drawer
the cops are on the way and we will tell them what you saw
la lai la lai la lai
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6. |
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i saw you lying on the pontoon
your perfect form invoked some fear
i walked upon the pier under a full moon
you never once would let me know you're near (2)
for all the things we said when it ended
our souls were mute still dancing in the breeze
i'm shooting bath salts and you're now long mended
i hate the way you live your life with ease (3)
take me to the middle of your mother
for that is where you're headed without change
one naked night you said there was no other
now you're marrying the next damn guy who came (3)
baby, toots, my love, my girl, my own one
if i had only been less desperate to boot
give my name to you are your husbands new son
and i promise that i'll drink before i shoot (5)
i saw you lying on the pontoon
your perfect form invoked some fear
i walked upon the pier under a full moon
you never once would let me know you're near (2)
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