...a few songs...

…the way…

Your fortune says that you might kill your brother
You cant be sure but you wont tell no other
Till you’ve lost your way
With no paupers left standing to pay
A blood stained cloud in the wake of all you’ve slain
Makes you weep at night for refrain
Cause you’ve lost your way
You deny but you’re deep in the fray
Of a broken life
An evil strife

You want to get out you get right back in
Tell yourself it’s the way its been
Lying awake you cant sleep at night
Sitting up till the craving takes flight
You’re on the prowl till dawn makes light

Your fortune says that you might kill your brother
You can’t be sure but you won’t tell no other
Till you’ve lost your way
Knees down and your trying to pray
A grizzly list of sins you convey
Making god weep at night and regret that sixth day
Cause you’ve lost your way
You know but knowing somehow makes it gray
In your mind’s eye
You’ve already died

You want to get out you get right back in
Tell yourself it’s the way its been
Lying awake you cant sleep at night
Sitting up till the craving takes flight
You’re on the prowl till dawn makes light

This has got to end
You’ve been left with a one and only friend
You look around and there surely there’s no other
You take a breath and go looking for your brother
And you know the way
Of course you know the way
Of course you know the way
You’ve always known the way


…home free…
suncrests like oxygen
it burns
photograph like x-ray glass
it burns

home free from the jet set scene
like alcohol
like gasoline
breakneck back
'cross the grass
as engines slash
this filthy little dream

potionless like motionless
it burns
gouges like the sharpest knife
it burns
home free from the jet set scene
like alcohol
like gasoline
breakneck back
'cross the grass
as engines slash
this filthy little dream

Thrash about like screams out loud
It burns
Burn free
Burn free

Cauterize this clap trap life
Filth aside I cannot lie
Wake me
wake me

home free from the jet set scene
like alcohol
like gasoline
breakneck back
'cross the grass
as engines slash
this filthy little dream


…gonna fly…
Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
Gonna fly

Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
gonna fly

I’m gonna ask you
about your heart now
Abut your
Subtle reasons why

You skulked
And you plotted
My very own demise

A bloody blackened torture creep crawling
Cross your mind
A sickened dace
Of as sycophant
A broken slipper
Just in time

Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
Gonna fly

Who
Is here to meet you
Gonna meet you
gonna fly

...our filthy age...

zephyr touch as the hallowed kind makes its way into the ugly foyer
bow down
and keel over
the high times are on their way

flat and gilded spreading no where near thin on the dance floor solid
clap hands
and keel over
it don’t get no better than that

slit throat parade laden linen made of blood from the devilishly handsome
raise drinks
and keel over
may the sporting be well and good

tap tap
huzzah huzzah
no lives as important
than this

arf 08