1. |
Sugar Glass
02:26
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Ten whole years in monochrome
Policed inside the white of walls
The hands that bedded cement
Draw stiff in pleasurable ill intent
They plunge deep, bare in rope,
Burnt black in white smoke
Flare lit again
"All this work won't save your life" read the sign
Cruising, muted sounds of headache and pneumonia
Ditched the gallant venture of moving through
Unfazed in scarce pace
To find a hole worth sinking into
Capture the vomit of conscient flow
And runes of my father's disguise
I wonder if you will understand
That even headlights wouldn't faze me
Bordering self-abuse I crawl through tense
And often past
Consistent
Admissions
You've let this brute enter your bed
Fists first into everything
Senseless and scarred
A dream-like ceremony but all things must pass
In dimmed lights and room sounds
And battered care
Silent
Stares at dead weight floating deep underground
Wants an anxious sigh to forgo the hound
Breeds comfort through the spit of police
Love is just a coward when it sticks around
The warhead of family strikes in thunder
And gasps poor memories on the sidewalk
The reason they ought to leave
The reason they ought to be left in parts
Not me, all dressed in plumes and sensible fire
Complete in crude
Put it out
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2. |
Most Men
01:46
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No pale march over concrete
Nor old hymns sunk in song
Ever sought the end of a year
Black or bland
And cut in glass, my eyes
Plow into murmur and flies
And Death full of flowers, chimes, shy
Reserves all of the gutting
Anytime you could've crawled on your back
We wouldn't let you
Anytime you could've acted fast
We wouldn't let you
Still life dreams gaslight
Come feasts and loathing
And my awful care
And no fault or home
Reserved for all of the gutting
Anytime you could pull out wonders out of smoke
Anytime you want to,
Anytime
Through both fists closed
And eyes bled shut
The march passes on
Through winter clothes
And city songs
The march passes on
The march passes on
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3. |
Angel Bait
01:49
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Apart from framed pictures stood low stilts
Saved from mold and temper
Where winds graced commissioned words
On four inch walls and images of you
Roof, old wound
Bare in tiles, laid in nails
Tore in bite marks
Were your hands enough to hold
Stories straight in communal green rooms
Now
Torched and bloated
Young hot air
Hence the chronic pain
Crass and ambitious and bold and broken
Ten shut doors, shut forever
Held inside novelty acts and city songs,
Vagrant guards of pose and posh
Glitter vanguard
Hold in fault what is yours
And I'll hold in fault what is mine
Crass and ambitious and bold and broken
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4. |
Mystery Meat
02:25
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A round of applause is due for the mimic
Who sleeps to ignore the sounds of the city
Home shut and dressed up
Pledges to rip all seems from his body
Whilst nailing his feet, counting his money
Wide eyed and bright eyed
Fancies his skin, all torn in surrender
Begins to cover himself with him:
The perfect idol
Stalking his strange inflections and movements
Finally decides to jump out the window
A child like us, sweat on his cheek, a bite on his lips
Lays
Cursing his senses, new to his name
Dead arms begging a stranger for kindness
You can keep running your mouth on the pavement
But it's talent you need on this show
Keep barking your love on the pavement
But you're not enough, not for this show
Keep a crime this foul on the pavement,
It's nothing new, but sobering still
The marks in chalk, the mercy kill
Had Death, like a patron, shivered when nude
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5. |
Violent Pope
01:41
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Stole the gold of prose
And the fingers sore
The well kept hold on no form
No form of dance and culture
The joy of pain
In manic need to perform, no form
The shame of prison
And vain with taste
Devoid of voice still performs, no form
These ancient soundscapes
Of doubt and love
Machine in feral, no form
How cunning the birth of sense
Lingering, formed in accident
Pale, undressed, confronts the cane
Leaves in awe of growing pains
Cunning, pierced and foul
Cunning, shaped in stone
Cunning, birthed in moan
Cunning, bought and sold
Blessed rose in rope burns
How cunning the birth of sense
Lingering, formed in accident
Pale, undressed, confronts the cane
Leaves in awe of growing pains
Cunning, pierced and foul
Cunning, shaped in stone
Cunning, birthed in moan
Cunning, bought and sold
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6. |
Prizefighter
03:06
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Confronted in cuffs
Come charges that I've been cheating for years
I want you like no one wants you
Confounded I try for anger
Like I've been doing for years
I want you like no one wants you
Dismantled alive,
Deprived of means to defend yourself
Pick me
To mean every flinching motion
To command silence and pleas
I want you hurt
I want you tore and here and bent
Naked and prudent, a child
Pick me
To mean every word every man of family should hear
I want your love
Everyone's got someone as an idol
Pick me
I want to sink this nation
I want to end this cold
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