That's why I find it so amusing. That the Latter-day Saints of our business. One, attribute to me motives that just weren't there. And two accuse me of corrupting morality.
Festering scabs, papillae and pores. Hardened carbuncles, spots and cold sores. Pick at the scab, septic blood starts to weep. Rip at my face, ruptured growths start to seep.
The rotting corpse lies on a mortuary slab. Pus starts to burst from each visceral scab. Body temperature drops, bone seizure takes place. As the discharge oozes from the boils on the face.
Erupted thoracic savies. Serum, pus and offal. Perspiring ulcerous chancre. Splattered on your wall. . Necro-cellular lesions. The stench of staining scabs.
Your jugular arteries ripped. Viscous juices gush and bleed. You're gutted, skinned and mangled. Enteral disorder is freed. Tour rib-cage wrenched and torn.
(Verse 1). Everyday, after school, during class, in the hallway. people's faces slowly breaking. why does nobody care. . (Bridge). And I look around. to people laughing, people pushing.
All this stuff, this is the greatest. Now I have to get the latest. My bottled water purifies me. After I eat my processed cheese. Superteen!. . Straighten my hair when I go to the beach.
Stuck in here got nothing to do. It's alright 'cause I can write 'bout you. If I have something to say I can say it out loud. Say how you're just one of the crowd.
Right now. I can feel it. Don't wanna run away. Could never push it away. I've been hiding inside myself. But now it seems the time has come. To come out and play.
I know this girl with incredible flow. She's got a need she likes to feed. A bona fide born again nympho. . We roam the streets, rock the beats. Leave the shoes off out feets.
Soak the sun, cinnamon. What went wrong, summer song. Splinter snag, wind vein ragged. Faded trends, summer ends. . What's that, I thought I heard you say?.
Run away hindsight. You've shown my shrine of. Priceless regrets. I'll stay. Shame me. Naked in my Open House gallery. Why do I pull it away from me?.
What's the point in reaching you, my lonely friend?. What's the point in friends if friends cannot offend?. . I am not impressed not that, I claim to know what's best.
Night time, bridges breathe. Ebb and flow, cars blink like a metronome. As they head for home. . City glows up into the sky. Winter ribbon clouds melt down in the gray sky night.
necessary food for the little ones. can't create when I'm under these guns. feed me lies I'll throw up all over you. ties come true don't like what I do.
Shall I shy down that's boring, snoring. I'd like to teach me to sing in perfect harmony. And I'd like to change the world. It's easier than changing me.
This has nothing to do with you, I know where I'm going Sunday. Windmill fish I'll move when the wind moves me. I'll make a roadway from the shells from my shells.
Vagabond or a bag of bones. They lay out loose atop the soil. They lay out and here comes the sun. And the winds to blow me away. Who, who are you? Who am I?.
I woke up from a dream. A white rose was floating to greet the sea. Morning light race me down the wooden path. Can't catch me now, the sea. . Will you wade with me? You and me, all alone?.