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lyrics

Herod, Texas collared shadow magnate,
spit maps through your cleft teeth.
A swamp under your cloak
and the sheep topped children
under your straps are long from home.

People point rakes to the skies,
rip and scrape hoods of Pharisees.
Armed from the neck down,
young men, shin stiff raincatchers
hacking a generation of boys
rolled down a hill
like inconvenient stones.
Unarmed from the neck up,
young men, disarmed
from the enrollment through
dismembered from the shoulder out,
Rachel in Ramah,
all will howl and hide their bodies
like the lipless wind howls
and hides itself in clearer skies.
Take no thought how what
to speak, all will howl
like the lipless winds.

___


The half life of "original" banger half life word in five years, fucked human energy in the blue light, in the red light lunch fucked, big time here, I'm taking about fucked.

Yacket racket fucked punks are hungry out and out lurching like shit bass. Liquor store tea house fuck suited palm tree licks fucked, damn yato. If you're the guy who gets a five on one when you scram at the corner, old school glad transfusion uncap a beer the first fucked yakuza flat top here you go get wrecked up in a tight suit on the cusp of death, no, fully alive, but days draw up to kill the fat burns blue the blue ink of the dead.

If your colleagues are digging graves, tell them to keep up the good work.

credits

from History Lessons, Vol. 3: Stuck In the Present, released December 11, 2014
Guitars - RS

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Ananalog Dallas, Texas

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