1. |
Grabby Fat Fingers
04:13
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2. |
The Deep Blue
06:33
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Saddle up. Mosey on. Been wandering around here for far too long.
Breathe in deep, choke on the dust. Been losing sleep, been caught in lust.
There's nothing far as I can see, bunch of dry, flat dirt and you and me. So hop on board, let's take a ride, chase a setting sun with no place to hide.
We're speeding around the sun, relative distance/position's where all gravity's from. There's nowhere to go. I know. You walk around on a globe, end up where you were before. So hold on tight to me, whether unsteady of heavy, I'll be your gravity.
I'll start a fire when chilly chatters your teeth. Lay our backs to the prairie, view the stars from beneath. Cuddle up in my blanket, share our last full canteen, but if the water's gone we can't move along and you know what that means. As our bodies grow shoddy desert's dry death will creep through the deepest dark blue where our consciousnesses will sleep.
The deep blue is coming after you.
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3. |
Valhalla
07:37
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pollute the path with petals pink to delight the eyes, disguise the stink.
impoverished cargo, rotting meat. pungent passage so sickly sweet.
so this is how my story ends, borne to the river by my friends.
you're awful sad an awful lot, your soul could heat your body up to 98.6 degrees of burning hell inside your mind, because life can treat you so unkind when aging is viewed as disease.
i believe we all leave screaming in disbelief, "can't believe this is happening to me!" It turns out all along, whether righteous or wrong, death is death, ain't no hidden meaning.
punctuate death with woodland greens. adorned with jewels beyond our means. We bury a sword for my friends, because all good things must some day end. don't grieve the things that have to leave, like our fallen comradery.
You bare me to the water's edge, where river carries off our dead, and wash your hands of me.
Swaddled in my finest cloth the water washes all sin off as my body's swallowed in the stream.
"I believe! I believe!" you will all scream in grief, hoping your belief will set my soul free. but it's all just a dream, death is just what it seems, an ending to almost everything.
the guy lived quite a violent life, but his funeral was beautiful.
he died of quite a violent life, but his funeral was beautiful.
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4. |
Charnel Ground
04:11
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When death's at the door saying come out to play, all the people we love will have something to say. But they knew, and we know, we all go.
So we sink deep inside to the pit of our house, keep ourselves company with a lover or spouse.
We'll shed not a tear, you'll find us waiting here when it's time to come out.
We spend all our passion on something we love, but then plead apathy when a push comes to shove. yea, it's true. No one cares enough.
Singing la la la la la la la.
When the wars of our weekends have passed into songs, and there's youth in our brains, but elsewhere it's long gone, we'll drown out the voices plague-ing our minds with the radio on 95, waiting in line.
Once it's all over of course it's ok, though we never thought childhood would end quite that way.
But we knew, and we know, we all go.
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