Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Songs For Insects, artist - Thought Industry. Album song Songs For Insects, in the genre Прогрессивный рок
Date of issue: 04.07.1992
Record label: Metal Blade Records
Song language: English
Songs For Insects |
I sing poems of rebellion. |
Lax russet lips lavish |
Scabrous empathy. |
Without rights I kowtow. |
A silly |
Carcass burrowing forward. |
This reads terms of vast |
Cosmos for Tianamen Square, or felt dampness in meat. |
I crave iced pavement to clot my languid flesh. |
Without |
Rights I blunder. |
A bloated child lost in a flaccid smile. |
Mold and silk ripple the womb. |
Congested slams of Beijing. |
Suckle chunk water surviving rusty plumbing. |
Paint chips and fades the wormholed face of Mao |
Zedong. |
Insects tremble at the coming of the Year of the |
Cockroach. |
Visage with backwards eyes could be Sun-Yet-Sen. |
A Friend armed with nails to help me torch the flag. |
«Leader, your steps I adore. |
I’ll fight along since you |
Stand for me. |
I have surrendered to life’s enchantment, a Voluptuous passing dream.» |
«Carnage?, peeped the Fly. |
His wings glide with |
Sweat. |
Lick her foot. |
Consume it slowly. |
Blood is what I Need. |
Raped her squirming cute face sobbing. |
I’m the |
Cockroach King. |
When is wrong all right? |
We’ll banter in The cupboards. |
Meditate. |
Use Zen under the plates. |
Father I am. |
I’m you, but I’ve found I’m you as lethe. |
Sable Saliva paints a plethora of Lindens with rugose |
Branches and molted angst torsos. |
«Don't cry my baby brother. |
A martyr I was made. |
When the tanks just roll me over, remember where your |
Loyalties remain. |
Thighs held tense and wet deserve salacious care. |
Risque' like death I maim guests slowly. |
Love is all I Need. |
A fat bombast stripped leitmotif for the Cockroach |
King. |
A ruffian to trust? |
Like what kissing preludes. |
What |
Rigmarole poets elude. |
Father I am. |
I’m you, but I’ve |
Found I’m you; |
a swain. |
The pariah’s gone. |
Extirpated. |
Let’s burn His house. |
Holy water drink it slowly. |
Where’s the police tonight? |
Stumbling down here. |
Here the police will die. |
City |
Water vomits harshly. |
Love spinning round. |
Flailing. |
Bloody water washes hardly. |
Sauterne, parched I suck. |
Blotter. |
Sweat and water tastes too salty now. |
Lepidoptera. |
One billion strong. |
Twenty miles wide |
To kill one man. |
No time to use with morals to loose. |
To choose. |
Dabble dandy sulfur daisy eye. |
My eye. |
Debatable |
Flummery. |
Me free. |
Lilliputian ego. |
A rayon vest, a Smooth chest. |
No complications. |
No compendium. |
Sangfroid. |
I disencumber with equilibrium. |
A drunkard. |
I am. |
I’m you, |
but I’ve found I’m you as dawn. |