In the pen with the mastiffs bred to fight rats
In the bowels of the arena
I received a kiss with a promise that produced
Deformities of happiness
The laughter there is viscous
It leaves a residue down the legs of the chairs
Since you lost the will to hear
They get your attention grabbing fistfuls of your hair
Belle Glade Missionaries
Belle Glade missionaries are here to steal your cocaine
You better send your malaria to puncture their brains
Send them back to where they came from
Send them back to the savannahs of disease
From your first psychotic episode to your juggernoose schitzophrenia
It's your dysphoric mania that makes you so likeable
That makes everyone want to save you
Save you only for themselves
Your mother hung herself in the National Theater
When she was four months pregnant with your sister
Who would have been thirteen years old today
Does that make you feel any less alone in the world?
Your dad, I'm sure, he tried his best
He thought you'd be better off living with your grandmother
He didn't realize that she had already given up
Baby, your family, they are just losers
I do wrong, strictly speaking, just for myself
Because it makes me feel like a real man
To hold germane over my business and I
I refuse to be abused by the mill of blissful decay
Besides, I'm used to all of my scruples deserting me
Like they're wont to dare
The lady from the plaque hunched over on the stool
(Idk what Kevin says here)
Saying I've been rolled so many times
Up in the hills they are
Having a white riot with no violence
Or protesting for change,
They simply buy it.
If you're think I'm Caucasian,
Well I'm actually gray.
I was conceived on Ash Wednesday
And stoned on Christmas day.
Your folks, they are such lovely people.
I canít understand where you came from.
How long can it possibly take
For one to realize the dream is over?
How many more nights
Must you just humiliate yourself?
The pollution from your imbecile rages are licking at your heels
Plotting red streaks across the desert of my eyes.
I have no hope for you anymore.
You like to think that you can live beyond good and evil
Amputated from humanity
On some lifelong intellectual retreat
Everything is conceptual and
All is rhetorical
You can feel so powerful
When you're forced to face the physical world
You scurry like an insect
She Ain't Speakin' Now
Black sun sepulcher
To blow, I see it frozen out in your hand
Though Iím trying to think only
Positive thoughts, understand
Black place tomorrow
And I leave it tomorrow, then
Youíre eviscerating, suffering again
Oh, will you ever be YOURSELF again?
Sirens Of Your Toxic Spirit
What I recall, remember best is insanity
And the clatter
Misapprehensions are killing you
But not fast enough to really matter
The flume of your struggle it's flooded with sorrow
And it poisons everybody near it
I'm not a patron of yours anymore, I don't want to hear it
The sirens of your toxic spirit