Lyrics The Ghosts are Greedy - Cerberus Shoal

The Ghosts are Greedy

Oh!
Dole out the wine, boys
There’s a need to be intoxicated
You heard me
We gotta keep all of the wheels greased
You’ve made it
So rest assured, though not too far
Arranging
The last of all your bloody bones
The nurses
Have come to wrap and bandage us
It seems that
Consciousness has been found and lost
Sweet regime has gone to take a tiger off a mountain
She needs it
The Chinese appreciation for reeds
Awareness
Has shown a gap in boundaries
Concepts and
The laws of nature had to cease
Providing
A lack of any way to be
Freeing us
Prom pursuant normality
How, how long a wait 'till we reach a clearing?
Sagacious
A fundamental parody
But still yet
There is a chance we’ll make it back
To where those
Faded lines will be shown again
We’ll forget
That we had felt intensity
See you all
Back at the golden TV set
So now we’re on and running
A magnificent organism
You oil it
I’ll feed it
Take us where we need to be
Da da, da da, da da, da dum
Da da, da dum
Da da, da dum
Da da, da da, da da, da dum
Da da, da dum
Da da, da dum
Da da, da da, da da, da dum
Da da, da dum
Da da, da dum
Da da, da da, da da, da dum
Da da, da da, da da, da da, da da
The mind comes with booby traps, and an atmosphere of nearness, which puts the
whole world on your doorstep, with cameras and microphones.
if you stay in one
room long enough, the questions start to change you, and the map you own
becomes inferior
A topic of contentment, in the long sigh of a lifetime.
With the bolts and all
the chambers, you can be safe in the meantime.
But the microphones are powerful,
and the cameras have telepathy.
Silence extends no guarantees, you see
Painstaking the lie, to a spot fed on truth, evens out the weigh which is
working against you.
Oh, sing me a song that wreaks, of albumen and tunnel
sweat.
We must escape the government, with powdered wigs and wet cement
We have a garden that’s invisible!
It creates everything we see!
So sharpen all your instruments!
Prepare yourself for surgery!
DOCTOR DRAINO
NEEDS YOU
Mentally
A vast majority of human beings exercise their tautology in the ever decreasing
sphere of primal influence.
While it remains true that the surface of our
planet is undecided, we can no longer linger upon its renewal.
The time has now
come to reify our declining abilities of abstraction and at-oneness.
We must engage the shadow of deceit.
Take psyche on a picnic
In the middle of a meadow
For all the sky to see
We are here
Coming alive
Like nature in a brown paper bag
We can see everything
And it is good
There is no conflict
Only self displays those borders
Only self can make those changes
We belong united
We escape in miniature vehicles colliding
With the fabric of our love’s design
Sputtering out the (?) dizzy fumes (?) of our illusions
And all the things a mask cannot
Disguise
Makes politics
Of truth
And beauty