Enemies of the khanate
Strung on hooks like pigs to slaughter
Heads will roll
Heads will roll, and throats will be slit
And blood will flow like springs of water
Heads will roll
To the rivers red, across the ochre steppe
A thousand fathers killed, a thousand virgin daughters spread
With swords still wet, with swords still wet
With the blood of their dead.
Nurjan is upon us, he kills in silence after prayers
Genghis Khan is upon us, he slays his betrayers
Genghis Khan is upon us, he slays his betrayers
Thus now the fools of God will guard the city of our birth
Hold an ear to the ground to hear the sound of clamoring
And horses stammering as their gallop meets the earth
A thousand fathers killed, a thousand virgin daughters spread
With swords still wet, with swords still wet
With the blood of their dead.
Tomorrow
Tomorrow they will find us, hide the children free of sin
We will meet their blades by morning protected only by our skin
Tomorrow we will find them, seek the youngest of their kin
We will meet them with our fury,
We will crush them all like vermin
We will crush them all like vermin
Down the street half a block away
In a familiar place regular people
Agree with each other in smoke signals
(Down the street half a block and
In a familiar place regular people
Agree with each other)
Interprets the law as aging with its eyesight failing
The law is aging (oh yes it is)
Sitting across, telling stories
Eyes unclosed like books we've read twice
(So sit across the table, feed me some lies)
So on the shelves lined with spines
The dust collects as scattered ash
From an urn unturned
Spilling over someone regular
And other such regulars
Cry ghost and boast
Of the friend of a friend
Who saw a strange sight
Or heard a strange sound
Now whispers tall tales of murder
Down the street half a block away
In a familiar place regular people
Agree with each other in smoke signals
Brought together to burn, brought together to burn
{Each in turn}
Interprets the law as aging with its eyesight failing
Interprets the law as aging with its eyesight failing
Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
Somebody's somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
Or the monsters in her bed
Who hacked her to blood-meat
Somebody's little girl
Dreams of the things she's read
Or the monsters in her bed
Who hacked her to blood-meat
Thus now he knelt before the ruins
Cold of sweat and heat of flame
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village
the village to it's shame.
Those who plundered, pilfered, pillaged lives
Would now accept the blame.
He would find them all with mighty vengeance paid for in their pain
Shah-jan, the king of kings wore seven rings
And sixty feathers plucked from sparrow's wings.
Growing fat on the throne where he sat like a stone
As a man who has never known no hunger or shown no mercy
In, in promises broke like a bone, bone.
And there he sat like a stone
With promises broke like a bone.
Dispersed about his people, Rostam calls out for his equals
In thirst to rise and curse,
Exact the worst revenge on enemies to hang from trees.
Exact the worst revenge on...
The royalty must die like common beggars and petty thieves.
"Tomorrow they will find us. Oh God, oh God, oh God."
Thus now he knelt before the ruins
Cold of sweat and heat of flame
To vow the severed heads of those who brought the village to it's shame.
The king of kings wore seven rings
And sixty feathers plucked from sparrow's wings.
He's growing fat, growing fat on the throne
Where he sat like a stone.
A man who has never known no hunger, shown no mercy.
Those who ride against us will be murdered where they stand.
Let our arrows rain from sky to drain blood into the land.
If a mortal stands before us, strike him down with sleight of hand
And if heaven rides against us, then god himself must be damned.
Did you come here to kill,
or did you come here to die?
Did we really think that spaceships would descend from the sky?
Bending light and beaming forth across space-time
to see us scared in the reflection of their oil black eyes?
And stalk us as a predator like our movies imply
They're not the ones who come to kill us
Come to fill us full of lead
They're not the ones who hate us
And they are not the ones who mutilate our animals
Or travel through the stars.
They're not the ones who cause us harm - we are!
We are, we are, we are
We are still-life in cold blood and we feel nothing.
We are still-life in cold blood and we feel nothing.
Hell-bent on heaven
Hell-bent on heaven
Hell-bent on heaven
Hell-bent on heaven
While our righteous men are stuffing corpses full of shit and faith,
We are, we are, we are still-life
We are, we are, we are still-life
We are, we are, we are
Still-life
They're not the ones who cause us harm
We are, we are
(Did you come here to kill, or did you come here to die?)
We are still-life in cold blood
We are still-life in cold blood
And we feel
We feel
Stuffing corpses full of shit and faith,
They bloviate about a future beyond the moon.
To bring about another planet's doom
To discover peaceful life and beat our war-drum to its tune
Unless my prayers are answered
Our end is coming soon.
As often as always evolution
is crawling from the sea,
Alive with urgency like suicide, like suicide,
Convinced the grass is greener on dry earth;
The march of serrated utterance like a soft cough
Muffled murmur sneaking through the lecture hall.
The crawl across the island, the sound of waves;
Embodied water sprouting legs as loud as gallop,...
All the young people who took a leap without faith into a riverbed
That drowns about as much as it saves.
...Cuffing down on ground against the cries of gravity.
Belly-up, half buried in the sand.
Extend a hand to the smallness of death.
Understand that only dying is this colossal
Creation shedding skin to find a perfect equilibrium like fossils.
All the young people who took a leap of no faith...
All the young cowards acting out...
All the young cowards acting out for the brave forever hurled
Into the waters of their indifferent graves.
For a million years raise your glass
We will never answer where we came from...
For a million years raise your glass in cheers
We will never answer where we came from only how we got...
For a million years raise your glass
We will never answer where we came from...
For a million years raise your glass
...only how we got here.
(Two minutes, and then the lads are in for a surprise)
Split the sky asunder
Noble huntress of the clan
In your left hand raise the sword
In your right hand cast the spear.
Summon all the thieves and bastards hiding in the woodland
Crack their skulls into cauldron for invading our frontier.
The shadows fall, the hammer falls, the stone is placed above us all.
We forge our weapons in the furnace, soar to heights like oak trees tall.
Do not beg before me, I'll not heed your appeals
With your final words be grateful you died by Irish steel
Do not crawl before us, your fate has been revealed.
The heavens will not desecrate their gates with your admittance
Do not beg before me, I will not heed your appeals
With your final words be grateful you died by Irish steel
Do not beg before me, your fate has been revealed.
Do not crawl before me, I'll not heed your appeals
Son of flesh, I cast you out into exile forever hence.
Flidais rides again
Flidais rides again
She is the forest, she is the rain
She is the huntress, she is the... {prey}
She is the dusk and
She is the dawn
She is the moon and
She is the sun
See her bellow out
See her, see her
See her bellow out in anger,
See her raise the infant fawn
She is drawn by a cart of cervidae,
She is here, she is gone
She is here, she is gone
Endowed with the art of
casting names upon its beings
The humans claimed dominion over every living fucking thing
Proud as purpose as they began to walk the earth as they arraigned
The common creatures caught within the corpus cursed,
conscious human brain
Every word ever written will fall short of its intent
Even sung or spoke or screamed they will betray what they have meant
Language is the heart's lament, a weak attempt to circumvent the
loneliness inherent in the search for permanence
All the future ghosts who scratch their names in wet cement
Demeaning meaning as they shout out at the emptiness
Abstractions are the stake between the anima and animus
Deflesh the word as scourge of human destiny
Behold the world in other people, life is clarity
Chews the fat with his creator
Over breakfast in the sunlight
Though when he says grace, when he says grace
He feels enveloped like a shadow
But there are evenings
There are evenings when this decimated world of movement, colour and form
Gets thin, and getting thinner
When lights are dim, and getting dimmer
When nights are grim and they're only getting, only getting grimmer
As they barter their boulders,
and martyr their soldiers,
teach a man to tear her fucking head from her goddamn shoulders
Held into the sun, by the threads of her hair
By the threads of her hair
By the threads of her hair
They impart a secret hatred from their fathers to their heirs.
In a silence left unbroken, Oh
On a bed bound and gagged, bound, bound and gagged
with culture, language, myth and law
Our goddess gave birth, our goddess gave birth to your god.
On a bed bound and gagged with culture, language, myth and law
from a wounded womb where flesh is scarred and raw
Our goddess gave birth to your god
Our goddess gave birth to your god
Our goddess gave birth to your god
Our goddess gave birth to your god. Goddamn!
Culture, language, myth and law
(Our goddess! Gave birth!)
Culture, language, myth and law
(Our goddess! Gave birth you your god!)
You wanna see the galaxy?
Take everything your
parents taught you, throw it to the dogs
It's the forgotten flesh of something dead, its blood drips from your jaws.
Take everything your school has taught you, throw it to the dogs.
It's the meat that dries in summer heat and reeks now of its rot.
It speaks now of the fate that we await, to be forgot.
Just as mountains live outside of rocks
And time itself outside of clocks.
We hope this life exists beyond our lonely bones in the pine box.
From the bottom of my heart, at the top of my lungs
From the corner of my eye at the tip of my tongue
Take everything your parents taught you, throw it to the dogs
It's the forgotten flesh of something dead,
from the bottom of my heart
Take everything your fucking school has taught you,
throw it to the dogs.
It's the meat that dries in summer heat and reeks now of its rot.
It's everywhere, it's everywhere, it's everything, it's everyone
It's anywhere, it's anywhere, it's anything, it's anyone
It's the neighbor saving face by saying grace
Today for yesterday's behavior
It's the neighbor saving face by saying grace
Today for yesterday's behavior
Oh my God
Live to fuck and fuck til death
Drink to sorrow and regrets
Live to fuck and fuck til death
Drink to sorrow and regrets
Oh God!
The sound they must have heard in the distance
A wilderness of sound and movement repeating itself across
the narrows of the mountainsides, the cries of creatures crashing
against cold rock, human voices heralding the hillside.
Their bellows bounding ripe with resonance
From here the unimportant call received the all important answer.
Oh goddess who bore us what we must have done to have buried
your daughters and prayed for a son.
The wind and the rain spoke a language of wonder
To a species rising thickly to a dialogue with thunder
In the empty space between better and worse
Language unravels and irony hurts.
In the common place between hunger and thirst
The words that define us a blessing and curse
The words that confine the ideas traversed the ear
To hear the song without verse, the sound of the sound of the sound
Utter first, the burst into nothing so sudden and soft.
The silence inside you when the music has stopped.
Stepped off a chair so
he could learn to let loose,
learn to let loose before the pendulum wore off
His final sound a gurgle and a cough
And his final words “the pendulum wore off”
Stepped off a building to find concrete evidence,
concrete evidence that he’d ever make an impact
Fiction splattered into fact
And his fiction splattered
into another sidewalk painting on display
Stepped off a bridge so he could make a splash,
to make a splash he had to flounder like a fish out of water
Another lamb that chose the slaughter
Stepped off a chair so he could learn to let loose,
learn to let loose before the pendulum wore off
His final sound a gurgle and a cough
Stepped off a platform and briefly made the news,
made the news and made the trains run fifteen minutes late
Oh what a price to pay to be the author of your fate
The trains were fifteen minutes late (to be the author of your fate)
C’est la vie! A drooling old bitch and a house full of lies
C’est la vie! The little things that kill you make you glad to be alive
C’est la vie! Disease in your genes and ocean levels on the rise
C’est la vie! Sing a song of living before everybody dies
That sweet little redhead's
got her hooks in my back
she points her finger and she shows me what i lack
her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
She paints the streets a shade of gray around my chair so come on in
Her hot breath on my skin
Her scent on my fingers
Her taste is on my mind
It constantly lingers
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can believe her
'Till I can breathe her
'Till I can leave her
every kiss is a little sickening
i can feel death's fingers quickening
tightening my passage ways
If you can't count the years
Start counting days
Try to remember that she hates you
And though she might elate you
She tries to kill the great that's in you now
She's hand picked the fate that awaits you now
And despite her words, it's not too late
I wrote a Goddamn love song to praise everything I hate
And kids were wanting the chorus line
And they sealed my picture's frame
She might run shit for right now but
I'll be damned if it's forever and always
As the chorus-line fades away like friends in high-school hallways
Oh, I got this feeling
That things will never, ever, ever be the same
Things will never be the same
What about those rainy nights in London?
What about the crippling desert heat?
What about all those times you swore you'd never leave me?
What about the hospital in L.A.?
You took me back after that night
What about that blackened image in my mind?
I swear I burn with a new light
What about that frozen, dripping, holiday bird that's cold
She's cold as ice!
Everyone knows that Cancer
Takes bites of every family
And it eats up families whole
Dance around the issue
Take issue with the answers provided
The past few years radiate with treatment
But to every day she'll put her cap on and greet them
She's got demons but you'll never meet them
Yeah we hope one day that she can finally beat them all
She laughs for us
She laughs so we don't worry
She smiles through the pain
And keeps the details blurry
My intentions are not to expose
The depths of her trouble aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose
And if there's one thing that remains
So crystal clear to us
It's that the wandering hands of the gods
Are so goddamn mysterious
Like there could be a justification
For the lives it takes and the lives that it's taken
This isn't a eulogy
Or a requiem
Just some words I've sketched out
Cause I haven't said them
This isn't about her father or brother
Just a few simple words so she knows that I love her
And tragedy will never disaffect her
I hope she knows how much I respect her
My intentions are not to expose, in verse or in prose
The depths of her troubles aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose
A song worth singing
A wound that keeps on stinging
And one sinking feeling
That's always worth clinging onto
And a stone in a glass house
That's always worth slinging
She laughs for us
She laughs so we don't worry
She smiles through the pain
And keeps the details blurry
My intentions are not to expose
The depths of her trouble aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose
Saints walk the earth
They don't patrol the skies
They're the people right behind you
Riding tandem through the night
It's the comfort that's discovered
Between two sets of eyes
It's the hand that stills the other
That shakes like candlelight
Like candlelight
Yawn awake
Familiar surroundings
All hotel rooms are pretty much the same
Although the room number might change
Catch a glimpse of everything within the lighter's flame
There's always a window, but so changes the view
Affording a clue to the answer that's owing
Where we might be and where we might be going
There's no fixed address but the van, white as a suburb
Catch a reflection in store windows
As we're headed in any direction
So press your head against the window
look outside at emptiness
Tell a joke, or take a piss
Take a picture at every mile
Lock the door and start the engine Quince it's gonna be a while
Tell a joke, take a piss
Take a picture at every mile
Start the van, close the door, Quince I think it's gonna be a while
The climates flay themselves
Undress themselves at the side of the road
Commute at the union between failure and hope
Weave a highway line to stitch a skirt out on the land
Twist and turn, and tell a story like the palm of your hand
Ponder awe and wonder, keep watching the skies
Wonder awe, and ponder in the blink of an eye
The climates flay themselves
Undress themselves at the side of the road
Commute at the union between failure and hope
Turn our weakness into
Turn our blindness into
Turn our questions into answers as obvious
Turn our weakness into might, oh
Turn our blindness into sight
Turn our questions into answers just as obvious
As moonlight in the darkest, darkest night
And what a fucking waste of a day
We just lay around and waste away
Because when that sun goes down it's bottoms up
We try to reach the bottom of the endless cup
Everybody's getting older, but no one's growing up
As the weather's getting colder, the room starts heating up
Cam's hair just keeps falling out and Chris just keeps getting fatter
But from where I sit now, on this rickety stool
None of that shit really matters because
This is our Versailles
Palace on the swamp
Listen to me for a nominal fee you can have anything you want
What matters the most is the bad joke ghost
Circling your floating corpse at the end of the haunt
Never forming pleasantry
I'm so drunk I can't feel a thing
Pledge your allegiance to the fucking swamp king
Drunk as hell
Dumb as all get out
So pucker up those pretty lips of yours and
Kiss my ass and shut your mouth
Sometimes a knife right through
your heart is exactly what you need
Sometimes the things that your ashamed
of make you who you're supposed to be
Listen to me for a nominal fee you can have anything you want
We'll remain here
We'll remain here forever and always
What matters the most is the backdrop ghost
circling your floating corpse at the end of the haunt
We'll remain here
We'll remain here forever (always)
Like a million other soldiers on a
thousand other battlefields we wait
Wait for the dawn
Like a million other soldiers yes we wait
This is our Versailles
Palace on the swamp
This is our Versailles
And when the underworld's
Best kept secrets
Saw it's own reflection
I knew things had finally changed
For better or worse
Whatever as always
Midlife fires start to burn
They burn down our worn protection
I won't take pictures from their frame
Whatever as always
With their hands that sold me everything
Slapped a price tag on my chest
Bit my tongue and shut my mouth
Tried to blend in with the rest
But I'm a square peg
I'm a sore thumb
And it seems to me this apathy
Kills the life and honesty
It will deepen industry
All these songs sound so damn good
Even if their meaning's hollow
Hollow words dry out your mouth
And you might find it hard to swallow all this shit
That we keep feeding to keep ourselves and you believing
That no money can change us then
a door opens up and some devil persuades us
The songs we sung when we were just young
Have all but lost their meaning
But there's still a few things
Still a few things
Still a few things
That we keep on believing
Still a few things
There's still a few things
That we keep on believing
Shitty music just ain't worth making
Smiles and thank-you's just ain't worth faking
Some assholes' hands ain't worth shaking
And if it's not broken we need to break it
There's no such thing as unconditional
No contracts bind you in the end
Make no mistake, this is a killing ground
Blood hungry and camouflaged as friend
Select yes
At the end of this mess
If you get there then it's your only fucking option left
These days I don't know
The people I'm supposed to trust
And I don't trust these people
That I'm supposed to know
The handlebars on my dreams they slowly start to rust
Helped take everything and somehow you still know
And as the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings
And sell them all for blow
These days I don't know these people that I'm supposed to trust
And I don't trust these motherfuckers that I'm supposed to know
These handlebars on all my dreams they slowly start to rust
The cocaine cowboys finally get their wings too
Now they sell them all for blow
I make music for myself, not for hand jobs from
the upper-tier or their undeserved wealth
Here's to their failing fucking health
I don't mean this in a hateful way,
but when the people you love start walking away
The world gets harder each and every day
Take your last bite before it crumbles away
There's something inside me I just have to say
Love nothing
Trust no one
Just live for the motherfucking day
Each word bitten
Every fuck is pronounced
With conviction written
In justice announced
And every hand that feeds is bitten
If it steals from hungry mouths
Convention be damned
I know who I am and some words
Are just to fucking loud
They can’t be ignored
Twice our bitter lifetime
Tucked tightly in their belts
But spat and bit in such a way
That you just know how it felt
What it means to be a man
And what it means to refuse it
Things I learned along the way
While listening to their music
So laugh then cry so I’ll try but to laugh again
Throw your hands up in the relief
That twenty years won’t end their reign, their reign, their reign
The reign of unending terror
The rain that brings us warning
The rain that breaks the sky and gives us hope
For the end of this long night
Red sky morning light
The truth is some days I don’t have any morals at all
The truth is I left them in the men’s room
at the truck-stop in the second stall
The truth is some days I don’t have any morals at all
The truth is I left them in the men’s room
at the truck-stop in the second stall
And that’s the kind of enemy that obscures
The very core of me
My shallow lacking and disbelief
Steps back while flipping the sleeves of
Cd books with cold-cocked hooks
Flip the kings uplift the rooks
Spit on the diamond cuffs
Of the real crooks
When you look in my eyes who do you see
When you look in my eyes who is it
When you look in my eyes who do you see
When you look in my eyes who is it
Gin! always the gin,
always take one on the chin
The devil dogs and scorpions peel away and wear my skin
Smokeless flame, the common name
Less than the angels but more of the same
No paradise, the grateful will lay their claim
Whether the intentions are violent or just mundane
With the wind he disappeared
Confirming everything that I feared
The time passed is shown by the length of his beard
Solomon stands, dead on his feet
waiting for termites to resolve his conceit
In the mountains, in the seas, in the air waits the disease
We are not gods, death comes to us all
but tonight I'm invincible; tomorrow I'll crawl.
In the mountains, in the seas, in the air waits the disease
The jinn in this bottle, just don't let him drown
Next lesson you swallow, might be hard to keep down
Taste the penalty of the blazing fire
Taste the penalty, sing with the Devil's choir
Gin! always the gin!
never thick and never thin
Thicker than blood, less than kin
The rattle trap night ends where it begins
Psychotherapist once
claimed I had acute neurosis
Well, I only said a couple words and he made his diagnosis
He said I could say whatever I want because I never chose this
So I spat, grinned and I looked
at him and blew him a Glasgow kiss,
look out now
I close just one eye, and let a part of me die
Never too sure if it's the truth or a lie
I'm not asking for your pity
"Oh woe is me" sarcastically
I'm not losing sleep pathetically
while waxing so poetically
But I'm waning, waning alphabetically
As I keep dropping bombs
Dropping bombs
Dropping bombs apologetically
It was a wicked whimpering Winnipeg night
when my tongue grew wings and took to flight
the thought had never crossed my mind before that moment
is the truth so bent it can't be broken?
my jealousy got the best of me
and had a conference with the rest of me
it said, "If this is all that's left for me
then there's a little room for regret."
Little voice
Little voice
Little voice inside my head said,
"If you don't regret nothing then
you might as well be dead,
might as well be dead."
So I apologize,
mostly to the four or five guys
Who stand behind me on the stage every night
as the mic starts to whisper
and the words start to blister
in my mouth that I know aren't right
I gotta get back to who I was
before my last ten years on autopilot
It's the mask that quite
often starts to eat into your face
So wear it lightly like a cap
that can quickly be replaced
I gotta get back to who I was
before my last ten years on autopilot
So tell me again how my life
should have been before I was spineless
before I gave in
because everybody thinks it's timeless...
Well time's running out
One thing I'll never regret is I never shed my face
Here's lookin' at you, kid
It was gonna leak eventually, so eventually it did
And bad new, travels fast I think
In a moment the country will be stiff, stiff inside their pants
All the editors are hard, all the journalists are wet
All the boys are jerking off in private on the internet
The manager is sweating
The parents smoking cigarettes
And it doesn't matter if the vision flatters
It's the nudity, and that much is understood
(And that much is understood, that much is understood)
And it better be
It fucking better be
It better be good
'Cause she looks hungry on that tape
Yeah, she looks so fine in the limelight
In the sickly green she might have been
A girl I know, a place I've seen
Now all the editors are hard, and all the journalists are wet
And all the boys are jerking off in private on the internet
Now all the editors are hard, and all the journalists are wet
And all the boys are jerking off in private on the internet
Between the sweat and the silhouette
Between the drink and the regret
Have your fill, but don't forget...
Everyone's naked!
Somewhere out there in-ter-net
Somewhere out there in-ter-net
The Jonas generation's got rings wrapped 'round their dicks
The whole world waits with patience for one them boys to slip
Reflected, directed, by one simple fact
Be careful what you're looking at because it might be looking back
Reflected, directed, by one simple fact
Be careful what you're looking at because it might be looking back
In the sickly green she might have been
A girl I know, a place I've seen
In the sickly green she might have been
A fantasy that I foreseen
Yeah!
Get if off, get it off online
Get it off get if off get it off online
Innocently green she might have been
A girl I know or a place I've seen
Without a word uttered
A comparison is drawn.
A distant future, a cluttered past
Amid the stars.
Vague yet persistent,
Thought lacking consistency.
Unwilling victim of farce.
The loudest voices scream uninspired.
Their numbers vast, their spirits strong.
Quiet choices sing against the choir
The majority is almost never wrong...
Never wrong... Ever... Never wrong.
A laughable assertion
That there might be some connection
(smoke-filled halls)
Adorn the walls with mirrors and misdirection,
Or let it go.
No common thread,
No ties that bind.
Just grasping at threads and keep in mind.
Historical analysis
They play a separate role,
But one contributes more to the whole!
Like a saucer sep...
Let's separate and shuffle off this conflict.
My armament will suffocate (will suffocate),
And leave you feeling useless.
We are your beginning
And we will be your end.
Affluence permitting, a mutual annihilation.
A laughable assertion
That there might be some connection
(smoke-filled halls)
Adorn the walls with mirrors and misdirection,
Or let it go.
Discussion moot
Argument ended
An aggressive mute
Strumbling defendant
Fiction versus fantasy
One fact remains unclear
How you pretend both franchises stand soley on one tier?!
We are your beginning
And we will be your end.
Affluence permitting, a mutual annihilation.
I don't care who shot first
Or for the song and dance you've rehearsed.
(a mutual annihilation)
I don't care who shot first,
Or for the song and dance that you've rehearsed.
The maps are divided
And each are traversed.
Aligment in flux for better or worse.
Is the drain finally swirling or are we swirling the drain?
This drought is relieved with acid rain.
This drought is relieved with acid rain.
(we are) We are your beginning (and the end)
And we will be your end (we will be your end)
Affluence permitting a mutual annihilation
[feat. Kayla Howran And Ron Jarzombek]
From the unrelenting beat of a pounding drum, come alive.
From the ceasing breast of a wicked beast, we survive.
In the hallowed marriage of sound and revolt, come anew.
To the hollowed, disparaged - shed and molt, overdue.
Splintering fingers, gore strewn across each hand
(Sink deep, stone, sink deep, stone)
Splintering fingers, gore strewn across each hand
(Sink deep, stone, sink deep, stone)
Pray for a way out of here. Pray for a way.
No animal in all the kingdom
Shall ever strike me down.
A coward in his finest moment.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Be swift and painless, not a glancing blow
To the back of the head, to the back of the head
Be swift and painless, not a glancing blow
(Sink deep, stone, sink deep, stone)
Pray for a way out of here. Pray for a way.
A long, slow pull on the briar.
Ready, aim... When the fire burns,
Callusing, topping off the urns, a sound remains.
Look to the actor in the heavy armor, his mettle shakes.
Listen well to the deafening clamor whimpering makes.
Look now to the unassuming, unwavering
Standing before the heavens screaming,
“Bring on the storm. Bring on the storm. Bring on the rain.
Bring on the jesters, and bring on the pain.
Bring on the storm. Bring on the rain.
Bring on the jesters, and bring on the pain.”
The seed is planted. Let the roots reach far and wide.
Let it grow tall. Let the rings remain intact on the inside.
And though the autumn brings a fall of leaves (let it grow tall),
We come anew. We come anew. We come anew.
Look now to the unassuming, unwavering
Standing before the heavens screaming,
“Bring on the storm. Bring on the storm”.
Oh what a brave soul.
He’s proud to be straight,
but like a host that feeds, bigotry inebriates.
And no one is ever been compromised
for being a white, straight male with two blue eyes.
And thus, a declaration of unwavering pride
walks hand in hand with Jesus, matching every stride.
Pew by pew and row on row, they’re taught to revere him.
But when they’re taught the wrath of God, they only learn to fear him.
And fear themselves, and fear they should.
And fear themselves, and fear they will (God is dead).
Fear the vengeance of a changing tide.
Fear the gap in your conscience that’s ten miles wide.
Until you’ve suffered persecution and defied
misguided accusations, you’ve no right to your pride.
Those that are truly afraid are ashamed of their own urges.
Where sex gets buried under rope and cloth, rhetoric emerges.
Reconcile the truth. Recognize the true deviants and sing,
“Father forgive me for I have sinned.”
He might not forgive you, but I will.
Repent of your ways and we will forgive you.
There are no exceptions, no red flagged rejections, just open doors.
For anyone at all, unversed and underwhelmed.
For anyone at all, disarmed and disavowed.
All hail the knight of the verbal incontinence,
tilting against windmills into the night.
Inanimate objects, they do not pose a real threat.
Your objection will surely be noted
as a historic account of an ignorant prick.
Inanimate objects, they do not pose a real threat.
If it’s a sin against God or you,
then fuck him, and fuck you too...
Wealth is a sick man’s game.
Those who have it and those who hunger for it.
To the victor go the spoils of fame—
those who seek it, and those who abhor it.
Evil is a very real concept,
boiling in the bellies of the graceful.
Toiling in the fortress in their complex,
to our employers we are faithful.
A number arises and there’s a spark in the eye,
obscuring the vision, clouding the mind.
“I am the authority on who deserves what.
To continue your prosperity, you’ve gotta pay a little cut.
We’ll be ruthless and cutthroat and get what we deserve.
We’ll remove each tooth from each
swollen mouth and finger at the nerve.”
When a hand makes a fist, sometimes knuckles crack and break.
When that fist strikes the ground,
the plates will shift, the Earth will shake.
Knuckle bones now exposed—true intention,
self serving goals.
Bank accounts that tell of rape.
The plates will shift, the Earth will shake.
Evil is a very real concept,
dancing in the diner to your upset.
Sharing drinks and laughing through their teeth.
Their only success is our defeat.
So drape yourself in the finest velvets,
cape, mask, and tights,
and jump from the closest, tallest
building and reach new heights.
Revel in the adoration you acquire.
Dive into the altruism you inspire.
Then sit back and pour a drink, relax
cause no one sees the other half.
The same qualities that you despise
are the qualities you personify.
So dig deep and find your buried heart.
I know it’s in there somewhere.
Acquisition isn’t all there is,
and no one’s too broken they can’t be repaired.
Revisions of histories et al. abound.
It flatters me now. It flatters me now…
”Hey spin that song back, it’s my favourite.
It flatters me now. It flatters me now.”
Passing judgment
with haste and laying to waste
those who stand before us and dishonour the faith.
A dramatic opinion, but an opinion the same.
An attempt now to make right, not to enthrall or defame.
An opinion piece, one after another.
Laid fat from feast, one after another.
A man is nothing more than what others claim he is,
so speak clear and ill of me and so it will be.
The grating sound of my voice. The yellowing of my teeth.
Speak up. Speak clear. Speak ill of me.
Speak up. Speak clear. Speak ill of me.
I found myself awake last night.
May the players take their place,
repeat their lines exactly to my public disgrace.
The years exaggerate how horrible it was
to be stricken silent with no explanation for the cause.
I can’t be the only one losing sleep
over things I should or shouldn’t have done.
They are the rope around the neck.
They are the blade pressed to the wrist.
It might seem detrimental, but it’s meaningless.
Left to my own devices, I am strange.
I’m a liar—entertained.
They are the rope around the neck.
They are the blade pressed to the wrist.
It might seem detrimental, but it’s meaningless.
A man is nothing more than what others claim he is,
so speak clear and ill of me and so it will be.
The grating sound of my voice. The yellowing of my teeth.
Speak up. Speak clear. Speak ill of me.
Speak up. Speak clear. Speak ill of me.
I am no one to be reviled.
I am no one to be admired.
Jumping rope at the end of the street,
I am everyone, and everyone is me.
I forgot to thank
you for the blood you shed,
and your obligatory contribution to the community.
Are you just dense or so fuckin’ inbred
you think that all is forgiven and all is forgotten?
But forgive them of nothing, despite their impunity.
Oh how the system fails you completely
when monstrous children get treated so sweetly.
The violence is praised, the decision cemented
(they seem like nice kids).
Crimes go committed, but never lamented
(that doesn’t change what they did).
That’s when they lock up an innocent victim.
The only thing that’s more broken than her spirit is the system.
They lock up femininity, infected with the illusion that choice is free.
You made your bed when you were born in your bones,
so lay back, sweetheart, in a body you only sometimes own.
Lay back upon cold concrete floors and rest your drunken soul.
What more could a lady ask for than to be treated like a hole?
Oh how the system fails you completely
when monstrous children get treated so sweetly.
Standing before you in suit and tie,
don’t they just look so nice? (so nice)
Well-practiced tears come to their eyes,
“I guess their remorse will suffice.” (will suffice)
That’s when they lock up,
That’s when they lock up your bones,
That’s when they lock up,
femininity infected with the illusion that choice, choice is...
Freedom is delicate, cracking under abject catastrophe.
Stronger than his prison bars are the bars around her memory.
It’s irrelevant, her relation to me.
No one is innocent if they go free.
No one is innocent if they go free.
When we hand raise the beast, and the beast runs wild,
we must speak of our own involvement in the rape of a child.
It’s irrelevant, her relation to me.
No one is innocent if they go free.
No one is innocent if they go free.
That’s when they lock up,
That’s when they lock up your bones,
That’s when they lock up,
femininity infected with the illusion that choice, choice is...
A breed? No, a series of breeds.
It’s not a single type or a single gloss,
but they’re singled out at half the cost.
Cast off and cast out and almost lost
is the innocent cry of a life embossed.
The innocent cry of a life embossed.
A judgment based in human error.
A snap decision made in crippling terror.
A sentence passed down from shaking hands.
Caving and twisting to frightened
demands of the disillusioned masses
to slap the wrist of the “lower classes” of life.
To slap the wrist, to slap the... wrist
It will be no defense, despite the nurturing influence.
The nature’s decided, the plan is divine.
And if you should feel remorse anywhere
inside you throughout the course
of this abomination, you should feel grateful—
grateful to feel anything at all.
Grateful to feel anything at all.
Grateful to feel anything.
Grateful to feel anything.
You are the heartless.
You are the soulless beast.
You are trained to kill, but unwilling
You are trained to kill, but unwilling to bear witness.
Grateful to feel anything at all.
Maybe you should concentrate
on the vicious people and the alarming rate
of murderers and drug dealers with whom you share
no regard for life before you set and ensnare the same victims.
Outlining the qualities by combining varied breeds.
Breed specific legislation falls flat on its only short snout.
A death squad assembled. Why put up a fight?
The round up resembles a Crystal Night.
In relation to temperament,
they pass with an overwhelming percent (86.4%).
The American pit bull v. the American dream.
The task is ours to keep our dogs and children safe.
Disregard the media, or the province, or the state.
With a different target every decade or so,
you can wait until they break into your home.
Repeat the lies you’ve bought and sold and say,
“You should look up the facts”
when you should look up the facts your fuckin’ self.
Or you could stand for a dog that’s not your
own because your own damn dog is next.
I’m proud of every pit bull, but ashamed of my own country.
I oppose any legislature that should try and stop me
And if a pit bull is a weapon, you’ll have to pry them
And if a pit bull is a weapon, you’ll have to pry them
I won’t stop until they lift these, these ridiculous bans.
And if a pit bull is a weapon, you’ll have to pry them
And if a pit bull is a weapon, you’ll have
to pry them from my cold, dead hands.
About a gunshot away
there’s a place that I long to be -
tippin’ bottles with me old cock.
When the shit’s all said and sorted, I plan to settle down and stay -
one middle finger to the landlocked.
From the first time boatin’ or there’s not too much I can recall.
I kissed a plastic cod and drank rum till I was friggered.
I decided then and there that I’d return, even if I had to crawl.
Something outside was broken and something inside me, triggered.
It’s a long ride home, but it’s always my destination.
It’s a long ride home.
If the sun bursts apart at the end of the world,
I don’t think I will give a damn
as long as I’m surrounded by friends
and pints in goddamned Newfoundland.
So here’s to Newfoundland.
I breathed a sigh of relief the next time steppin’ off the plane.
It’d been a long, hard, vapid winter.
Johnny and the boys were waiting there ready to explain,
they weren’t there to drive us, just a welcome back to the Island.
So we taxied to the venue to prepare for the night to sweep.
Slept in the back room until the India showed up.
When we finally took the stage, it shifted beneath our feet.
We stood on the shoulders of proud Newfoundlanders.
I think it bears repeating
I think it bears repeating
I think it bears repeating that no one buckled under.
We all got bit by the cod that we all kissed.
It left an infection in our lips and a longing in the mist.
You’re as deep as the grave,
and you’re marching to the heartbeat of the land.
You’re as deep as the grave,
and you’re marching to the heartbeat of the land.
Yes, I be a Newfoundlander B’y.
Not by birth, but in my heart.
Yes, I be a Newfoundlander B’y.
Yes, I be a Newfoundlander B’y.
Not by birth, but in my heart.
Yes, I be a Newfoundlander B’y.
You’re as deep as the grave,
and you’re marching to the heartbeat of the land.
You’re as deep as the grave,
and you’re marching to the heartbeat of the land.
So how you fuckin’ feeling tonight?
We’re (insert name here) from unimportant,
and I’m about to mimic some image of a
rock and roll singer I have under lock and key.
Without the faintest hint of irony
that I’m flashing my pearly whites to sustain my mediocrity.
So is everyone having a good time tonight?
Good, I’m glad (I couldn’t actually care less).
You guys are the best crowd that we’ve ever seen,
seen with these old dead eyes.
Blind to the stage or even my own lies.
So hey ho, let’s go. Let’s start
this contemptible “rock” show.
Blinding lights to hide the hand up
our ass in this puppet-sock show.
Two sewn on eyes, repurposed and made new,
torn from an aging suit for a sense of déjà vu.
Thumb underbite. I bite my fucking thumb,
and hope you catch a thread, and slowly come undone.
An illusion seldom spoken. An understanding between you and I
that the ground that you stand on is somehow less than mine.
An allusion to a broken home,
left on the street and chilled to the bone.
So hey, we still feeling good?
Now you comprehend our complex
relationship—consumer/consumed.
You’re just some stupid kid and I’m a megalomaniac.
Shedding defenses for an honest creation.
Placing yourself in the stocks on the strap.
You’re disgracing your effort by conforming to textbook
performance of music to fill in the gaps,
and it’s bullshit.
It’s bullshit. Be honest, this can’t be what you wanted,
if what you write about means anything to you.
Rather than pure vanity, people might connect with sincerity.
Don’t just pray the next generation learns from our mistakes.
Let’s not repackage the same old performance.
Original content is so much more rewarding.
Let’s not repackage the same old performance.
Original content is so much more rewarding.
I know that it might be quite cliché,
but if all the world is in fact a stage,
then this stage—this here goddamn stage—
might just be all the world.
Why do you torture me so?
You sit across the table with both eyes closed.
You speak in myth and fable, and stand unopposed.
The animal bones reveal themselves from deep within your mane.
They reach for ethereal light.
The ancient spears rise from her shoulders and riddle your frame,
marking the first time it was done right.
And that’s not all that haunts me - the death by fire of a child
who waits so patiently. And we are the ones
who set the standard by which we are to be measured.
Measured, measured!
Some things can never walk again cause
sometimes a step is all too vile.
The path of five innocent men who are
only capable of walking one last mile.
If I could live another day over again, I’d choose not to.
The successes and failures of days passed are constant.
The horizon promises days ahead.
If you won’t quit, then I won’t.
And this I swear to you tonight
upon these former embers
you fanned until they were fire.
We are nothing without the thousands of voices that make the choir.
Nothing without the thousands of voices that make the choir.
We are, we are, we are still life.
(We are, we are, we are still life)
We are, we are, we are... still life
Begging and pleading, not dying,
but bleeding out. (Still life, still life)
Begging and pleading, not dying,
but bleeding out. (Still life, still life)
Oh, the chemical reaction, the chemical.
Oh, the chemical reaction.
When the walls fell, with arms wide.
Cough, gasp, and sputter,
spinning helplessly down toward the earth.
A loss of control, the sky swallows whole.
Spinning down, down.
Forever falling down, down, down.
But is it entirely a flightless fall?
No deceptive currents, no rise at all?
Maybe it’s too naive to not jump ship
when deviating so drastically from the initial script.
Tremble beneath the weight of inevitability,
and all the casualties therein.
Cower in the shadow of the ever-present sun,
witness eclipsing, eclipsing, eclipsed.
Is it completely void? Or is the truth in shade?
Are all the facts before us a masquerade?
Suffering no deceit, no selfish lies,
we stand in our own crypt and we mobilize,
waking up to blazing heat
and the stench of rancid meat.
Don’t have the patience or the time to repeat mistakes.
Like high, hot hauls, through highway tolls
with bigger brothers for hungry trolls.
Each horn sharpened by eye sockets torn,
standing on the graves of the worn.
Welcome to the place integrity is born.
Heart in the right place, just missing the mark.
Feigning exception is a shot in the dark.
With no remorse and no regret,
is anybody listening yet?
Tremble beneath the weight of inevitability,
and all the casualties therein.
Cower in the shadow of the ever-present sun,
witness eclipsing, eclipsing, eclipsed.
Bask in uncertainty.
Strange things can happen when faced with adversity.
Ask and you shall receive,
or swing frantic your arms. Fate is nothing but a nervous belief.
I don’t believe the end is in pavement.
I don’t believe there’s anything beneath.
I don’t believe there’s death in the basement,
no I don’t believe.
No I don’t believe.
Embrace the fall, there is no end.
No ambiguous hypothesis to comprehend.
No bruised and battered egos in descent’s entire ethos.
No magnificent creation myth. No wind to pad the story with.
Only I will never quit, or watch my brothers quit,
but I’ll lower down a lifeboat if you’re abandoning the ship.
“True sailing’s dead,” should have been the first thing said
before the writing could be written, before the writing could be read.
The wreckage was never found,
but the black box was recovered.
The message therein profound.
In our final moments our true names are all discovered.
So let it fall, fall. Even if it turns out to be futile,
at least we couldn’t ask for a sky so clear or a day more beautiful.
They’ll never find the wreckage, transcending all human languages.
Just a promise and a final message: the descent is all there truly ever is.
Just a promise and a final message: the descent is all there ever is.
Just a promise and a, just a promise and a final message:
the fall is all there ever is.
Just a promise and a final message: the descent is all there ever is.
Just a promise and a, just a promise and a final message:
the fall is all there ever is.
Stumble beneath the radar, big holes in each great city
is all the evidence I need.
Knowledge often beckons and can lead astray.
Whisper release me, release me, release.
Dive into an endless sea.
No reason to falter no plan supersedes.
Altering frequencies,
but we welcome the change. Fate is nothing but a nervous disease.
Cough, gasp, and sputter,
spinning helplessly down toward the earth.
A loss of control, the sky swallows whole.
Spinning down, down.
Forever falling down, down, down.