|
How much do you make in that death factory? |
|
Severance owed in the chamber of revolvers |
|
Empty jails fall from my scalp, shake the globe and let me out |
|
If still I can remember the day that they took you from me |
|
Seems like |
|
I've been running from your trenchant memory |
|
Harp sickle will warn me when it's over' |
|
Cause if heaven breathes then someone trade places with me' |
|
Cause I don't want to tear feathers instead of rags, instead of rags |
|
When do I get to see the body preserved inside this grin |
|
Sewn in the lips were her last words |
|
I'll be damned, |
|
I can still hear her laughing |
|
Your angels have tangled their brass again |
|
The comfort of doubt, still it keeps you thin |
|
And still |
|
I can remember the day that they took you from me |
|
Seems like |
|
I've been running from your trenchant memory |
|
Harp sickle will warn me when it's over' |
|
Cause if heaven breathes then someone trade places with me' |
|
Cause I don't want to tear feathers instead of rags, instead of rags |
|
Does your temperature ache? |
|
Is your glass about to break? |
|
Are you purple with currant? |
|
Will you now become the servant? |
|
Gordian knots in the power lines, saucer fills to empty with pesticide |
|
Like the pharaohs of old bury me in gold |
|
I'll make your son refuse to fight |
|
In the stalk home setting that we provide |
|
If your heart does cease to speak |
|
My fingernail choir will make your chalkboard sing |
