Feel the ground the mourning soil close your eyes and lay confront the passage of time eternity which you cannot betray barter away this haziness
No longer I was breathing No more bleeding Inside the urn Under a soil and black stone Under a soil and black stone And I was listening And felt no
Earth now nourished with milk and with cum celebration of nature is done Come sun and gentle rain our gift is made so that the soil can give birth
would see the beauty then, we would stand staring in awe At our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges Like a story told by the fault lines and the soil
Was is it true what I heard about the Son of God? Did He come to save? Did He come at all? And if I dried His feet, with my dirty hair Would He make me
On a string On a string On a string, I was held the way I move, can you tell? My actions are orchestrated from above So I swing and I sway wave my hand
There is a man holding a megaphone He must have been the voice of God The bystanders claimed they saw Angels Flying up and down the block They must have
Here we go Can I get a goddamn timpany roll to start this goddamn song? Tonight, it is a goddamn song For all you goddamn people Well, the animals laugh
Laura, are you still livin' there on your estate of sorrow? You used to leave it occasionally, but now you don't even bother To ride the commuter train
There is no beginning to the story, a bookshelf sinks into the sand And a language learned and forgot, in turn is studied once again It's a shocking bit
I picked you out Of a crowd and talked to you I said, "I like your shoes" You said, "Thanks can I follow you?" So it's up the stairs and out of view No
Our love is dead but without limit Like the surface of the moon Or the land between here and the mountains Well, it is not these hiding places that have
Well, the future's got me worried Such awful thoughts My head's a carousel of pictures The spinning never stops I just want someone to walk in front And
The picture is far too big to look at kid Your eyes won't open wide enough And you are constantly surrounded By the swirling stream of what is and what
I have a friend, he is made mostly of pain And he wakes up, drives to work, and then straight back home again He once cut one of my nightmares out of
Well, you say that I treat you like a book on a shelf I don't take you out that often 'Cause I know that I completed you And that's why you are here That
Ran out of time Forcing me down Deep into pain Uncontrolled suffering Hysteria - Crying No blood in my veins Left here alone Hear my screams of torment
my sphere Trips into infinite twilights confessing my past Mortal scorn, and I bleed for your soul Scent, delicately scenting wounds Serenity in flames, ail My native soil
