Lyrics Bottomfeeder - Thought Industry

Bottomfeeder

«This was the last night I had on Earth.
My home
Town was dismantled and transferred to the halo of
Jupiter, and I went with it.»
New York City, July 4th, 1994
The skyline burns on Manhattan.
She sat with me on
Top of a warehouse.
I said, «I'm so lonely.
I think it
Makes me sick;
and I’m sure God’s come to destroy
Me.»
Michigan man quits the freeway.
Strikes bargains
Within the entry.
Screams nonsense at the fools in the
Alleyway.
Finds solace sniffing bags of all my candy
But it’s cold;
and it’s so hard when you freeze
Come to My Flat
Sit around.
Sit on blackened heels.
Choke on
Someone’s spit.
Dig churches in the pavement.
I
Can’t walk.
I think I’ve arrived;
yea, my wallet’s
Thick.
I could leave.
You will not care here, but I
Care.
I care.
Contrive.
Concourse to produce, 'got
Lots a cable.
'got a bag of hep tools.
Electric paint.
I
Want a set of chairs, and my ceiling drips.
I could
Leave because I am nothing.
Cheap as the wine
Cheap as expensive gets.
'got a broken figure.
Not
Malfunctioned head.
I want that dream.
I hurt to
Talk.
She’s disagreed.
I could leave.
I’ll wind and
Bind.
I’ll wind and bind.
I am machine.
I am my
Father.
You want this walk.
I could leave
Tompkin’s Park
Mist forms and exhales in the cold December air
She digs deep in her pocket for a half smoked
Cigarette.
A bottomfeeder 'got jealous.
Struck her
Face with a tire iron.
Black clumps of park sod mix
With blood in her hair.
Picks herself off the cold
Ground, and starts to walk.
Her face is bleeding
Bleeding for you.
Picks herself off the cold ground
And starts to walk.
I can hear her screaming
«My love for you has never been so misunderstood.»
— Jane