| He needs help with his social conflictions made simple by the boy with no heart!
|
| He needs a purpose so roll your eyes here comes the picture we drew
|
| He needs a part, he needs love
|
| He needs confidence, trust, grief and a home
|
| He wants tragedy, he wants the post cum epiphany
|
| Constrictors come join us in song!
|
| Did I make entropy rife between lovers, family and home?
|
| Well I, I, I’ve got confetti all over myself
|
| Did I drop the third person act to show you how real I can be?
|
| Well I, I, I’ve never been real in my life
|
| Killed by lust and the call for better social conditions
|
| Oh bludgeoned Firefly, I could not save your life to illuminate the night and
|
| show the pathway home
|
| So with no guiding light I’ll take refuge in this cold cityscape
|
| Then we’ll throw a party but only orphans are welcome!
|
| We’ll drink a bottle of wine to get drunk then head back to the shelter!
|
| And we’ll need no one else, we’ll raise these families of our own
|
| On our own!
|
| On our own!
|
| We’ll raise that union flag alone
|
| Schooled in the private system
|
| Publicans are paid to listen
|
| So he sings in the loneliest hotel’s hallways pretending they were his
|
| Break, bind, heal and separate
|
| One from romantics and two from idealists who signify all that I weigh
|
| All that I weigh in worth as a father, a sibling, a son
|
| By request of the old man that his body never lay out of ear shot of the town’s
|
| bells
|
| And through his words passed on at his funeral, «if it does, dig me up and burn
|
| me»
|
| Burn it all and together we’ll torch this portside town alive
|
| Burn it down
|
| With those ashes we’ll make testament to the orphans
|
| If they sing liberal chants and send you broke then nephew burn it down
|
| If they sing stockade songs along the dock then nephew dig me up
|
| We’ll scream so loud you won’t hear those fucking bells
|
| I’ll dig you up myself and fill that empty space
|
| Long grows the list of the live and dead pretenders who could not see the world
|
| as a purpose without fate
|
| So that’s us for now
|
| Thoroughly dead and buried neck deep in guilt with heads held high
|
| I did not say a word because it hurts to sleep
|
| Awake as the same disgrace you always were cause it hurts to feel
|
| And this dynasty of repeated verse will destroy us first
|
| Well that’s where it ends
|
| The destruction of love, life and home on a recording I can’t afford
|
| Learning to walk with one foot in front of the other
|
| Goodbye from the depths of my Fremantle heart |