| mark up flies the hill
|
| left to burn immoral chill
|
| winding clever never storing doubts
|
| the kingdoms left to kill
|
| found the pain fond of pain
|
| got that feeling back again
|
| out of sorts and sort of out of it
|
| good bye closest one, the dearest
|
| can I get a witness to the other side of accusers
|
| you should all just die
|
| I need to speak some things inside
|
| to crucify my mind
|
| can I get a witness to be on my side
|
| abusers, if you change your mind
|
| the need to hide the things inside to crucify their minds
|
| what’s left of it
|
| left all feeling stripped of meat
|
| ticking crack the glass is gold again
|
| the scaly trust case trusting pain
|
| go to hell what’s the hell
|
| is it fortune wrapped, do tell
|
| is it wise to smell the other side of all there is to tell
|
| can I get a witness to the other side
|
| of accusers you should all just die
|
| I need to speak some things inside
|
| to crucify my mind
|
| can I get a witness to be on my side
|
| abusers, if you change your mind
|
| the need to hide the things inside to crucify their minds
|
| got me stooping on my floor
|
| and I’m thinking stupid fall
|
| chemical war of running things
|
| has got to stop the rest of time
|
| you gotta get a life
|
| you gotta make your money and die
|
| shake your maker
|
| wait go away go on and make some time
|
| now get me out
|
| you make me and you make me and you make me out…
|
| make your money and die
|
| make your money and die
|
| make make your money and make and die, etc.
|
| beast of the flies reach around my right leg
|
| take off my wings
|
| soaring off to Wal-Mart to claim the bomb
|
| you can be quiet a name
|
| pacify?
|
| called this mustache ride
|
| in the back of my chevy van on a water pillow
|
| ? |
| last?
|
| here in the back of my chevy van
|
| on a waterbed filled with chinese tea
|
| restless spirit in my breast saving the best for you
|
| pearls before swine
|
| what’s yours is mine
|
| and the road is calling me
|
| If not for your unquenchable kiss
|
| I’d be storming the white house demanding to be heard
|
| children crying
|
| people dying on the street
|
| and me sucking… |