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Beneath My Feet
in from under my house i strolled
upon the pavement growing old
i looked onto my shoes and saw the holes in my soles
it escaped me why i thought this
that my soul was in my shoe
it is holy...holes...
escape...escape...escape...escape...
escape...escape...escape...escape
walking down the street into a vacant lot
a bus(?)
i wished that i could see the moon, the clouds, the stars would shine
in the morning, i awoke...by a woman(or i awoken)...
crying...crying...awoke...awoke
*?*
now you don't understand the night
the night that shadows the sky
is at the vacant lot
where she dwells
i looked on down the street
there was a girl
i would meet with no money in her pocket
lying down to pray (?)
*?*
i walked down the street
i understand what she is there for
i take the money from my pocket...the money from my pocket
i reached into my leg(?)
jealous...jump...jump...
she is there for a reason
i think or not
crying dying crying dying dying
what is this upon this street...
and she's sitting in a damaged place
i walk up to her a chance *?*
[anyone care to finish? i stopped at 2:04 or so]
Little Sisters
cowardice muscles turn to torture
the waking time is low
inbetween the cut from top to bottom of control
a many taste vents screaming blindface at the real disease
form collapsing red sky revealed, caught up in the breeze
they grow, I know, anxious cracked the dawn in circles in the floor
it's there appeared in seconds only slipping murder web
sleeping under glass decisions where the only light ways crack
a many little sisters breed in force field unity
genetic arms unfold braving night for lunacy
they grow, I know, anxious cracked the dawn in circles in the floor
hey stop i'll take her place, enter due hole
and circles celebrated slavery for sake
uncoils the run of blood of gravity and hate
they grow, I know anxious cracked the dawn in circles in the floor
they grow, I know anxious cracked the dawn in circles in the floor |
Blood and Sand
ooooo
within this darkened corner the warlock proudly crawled upon
i looked beneath my feet and see the soles upon the shoes i wear
in the soles the holes burn deep burn towards the street
i walk on down the street to find the park
in which i have come from
in the park there sits a girl
i want to know that girl...
sitting in the street, i walk among the souls with no wholes
the holes in my soles and a hole in my soul
i wish towards the star in a vacant light in out star
i walk along the park and in the park i see the girl in the street
the street is the girl- the girl is the street
she wears no clothes and clothes are no weak
i walk towards the street ray gun in my hand...
reached between my pocket, i reached into my pocket
i wander where she is
took her, down on the grass
the grass is very brown
i heard psychic screams
i did nothing- she sits with her legs spread
her legs spread like the morgue glassy blue, her lassitude
[indecipherable]
i wonder where it is
she sits there...
wondering, wandering
what happened to our heart?
aaahhhh
it decides, i walk towards her
i sit there involved my hands are in my pocket
my pocket and my lassitude, lassitude from my pocket
the cash inbetween us, there sits a wall
a wall i escaped from
i wonder can i get through this wall?...
is this the world? is this world we have escaped to?
she sits a street corner with her glassy blue eyes
i wonder where she's been?
i wonder who she's fucked?
who's she fucked?
i wonder where she's been?
it turns me on
this is a vacant lot, i see her walking , the stars
i reached towards the souls, of dead Frankenstein
this isn't what i wanted to be used for
i went towards the glassy view
i reached between her legs
i grasp her heart, heart in my hand
i stick my, stick my, stick my into her, into her
reaching toward the sky, the stars fall
the soles in my shoe, the soul's in my shoe
is this a vacant? is this a vacant lot?
heart in my hand
Ain't she sweet? t-t-tainted
Ain't she sweet? t-t-tainted, darkness souls
on my feet ooww ow oho ooh
livid
inside her
inside her
i looked toward the street and walked down with my shoes on my
feet
the holes in my soles
the stars in the sky, i can't reach |
Point Blank
you only outride the same outside
and be refused by entry, cut down high
you'll be beside yourself, and criminal elements dig
the underground that stalemate to thyself the plane outside....
forego the frenzy now, it seems the edge is torn and cracked
licking, cutting, freezing for the longest time
in short the ill will be in dream
and water flow that whole that heats up inbetween us both....
sent of disseverence
the flame that used to fall between us is the deficit
they climb the sinking side
indifferent elsewhere hangs its hardened head above us on the edge....
sent of disseverence
the flame that used to fall between us is the deficit
they climb the sinking side
indifferent elsewhere hangs its hardened heads above us on the edge....
Stowaway
the sound of secrets
and faith falling
speared ammended
uninvited driving game
it falls the bloodshed play
stowaways can taunt the air
their arms revolving in clockfaced stare
fight the force so claimed against your farenheits
your bills walked out with the strange surprise
cold and fractured against your lies
shattered hand britches are underhand
destroying asylums on the sand
you want to be alive when it happens
climb exits fly when the voices cry
a ruptured again for a dream any second
while little is known of the courage attacked
a ressurection under glass
they're scared again the hours are ours in sight
a dream any second the watt against the night
a dream any second the watt against the night
you want to be alive when it happens
climb exits fly when the voices cry
a ruptured again for a dream any second
for little is known of the courage attacked
a ressurection under glass
they're scared again the hours are our in sight
a dream any second the watt against the night
a dream any second the watt against the night
you want to be alive when it happens
climb exist fly when the voices cry
a ruptured again for a dream any second
Twice Removed
I Hate You (repeat til you're blue in the face) |
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Suck
[i'm not sure about most of the lyrics to this one, it shouldn't be too
hard to find the correct ones at a Connelly homepage or something]
the sound of secrets
and faith falling
speared ammended
uninvited driving game
it falls the bloodshed play
stowaways can taunt the air
their arms revolving in clockfaced stare
fight the force so claimed against your farenheits
your bills walked out with the strange surprise
cold and fractured against your lies
shattered hand britches are underhand
destroying asylums on the sand
you want to be alive when it happens
climb exits fly when the voices cry
a ruptured again for a dream any second
while little is known of the courage attacked
a ressurection under glass
they're scared again the hours are ours in sight
a dream any second the watt against the night
a dream any second the watt against the night
you want to be alive when it happens
climb exits fly when the voices cry
a ruptured again for a dream any second
for little is known of the courage attacked
a ressurection under glass
they're scared again the hours are our in sight
a dream any second the watt against the night
a dream any second the watt against the night
you want to be alive when it happens
climb exist fly when the voices cry
a ruptured again for a dream any second |
T.F.W.O.
T.F.W.O. [x3]
totally fucking weirded out
treason trapping
animal hide
in the vision of paradise
two explains your head
deranged
time spun web deluded of life
wicked black witch lady localize
inteligensia
go write a book and cry in it
face it lost that look
survivals hard enough
fading fire burning higher
time to realize that i'm on fire
patience sun the lord looks over
who covers in the watchtower
freeze arm scraping inches the vein
blind distracted the worshipping
metal point
a scraping hole
forever breaking
in out
temper test
bottom so vile
fading fire burning higher
time to realize that i'm on fire
T.F.W.O.
T.F.W.O.
totally fucking weirded out
T.F.W.O. [x3]
...weirded out
fading fire burning higher
time to realize that i'm on fire
fading higher why you liar?
it made inside my brain i don't remember
fading higher why you liar?
T.F.W.O. [x9]
F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F.F...
F....F....F....F....F.... |
Tapeworm
got the tapeworm
got the tapeworm, i want out
against a razor, sharp and a-coming
the spitting image
phone sex keeps the drive alive
and blows your brain
phone sex keeps the drive alive
and blows your brain
ash covered eyes, a gut reaction
slowly brings, decides the fiction
watch phone sex, delivers your lies
watch phone sex, delivers your lies
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
...is in your face...is in your face...is in your face...
is freedom talking to nothing inside your eyes?
is freedom talking to nothing inside your eyes?
the eyes...simply the message read, the truth is in your face
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
...is in your face...is in your face...is in your, face...
phone sex....phone sex....phone sex....phone sex...phone sex....
phone sex....phone sex....phone sex....phone sex...phone sex....
phone sex....phone sex....phone sex
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
is in your face...in your face...in your face...in your face...in your face
phone sex keeps the drive alive
and blows your brain
phone sex keeps the drive alive
and blows your brain
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
simply the message read, the truth is in your face
in your face...is in your face...in your face...in your face
dial 1-800...dial 1-800...dial 1-800...dial 1-800...dial 1-800...
dial 1-800-worm...dial 1-800-tapeworm...dial 1-800...dial 1-800-fuck...
it's in the bussiness...tapeworm |
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The Breakfast Conspiracy
gonna tell you a story
of some kind of a breakfast conspiracy
breakfast in bed, sir?
breakfast in bed, sir?
ah, no thanks, not today
in fact, I'd far rather be sitting in a distinctly upright position
so that I may at least have the ghost of a chance to digest
what I don't mind telling you
is completely inedible slop
lovingly and habitually prepared and served
by the thugs and vagabonds
who are the so-called staff of this institution
finished with the menu, sir? [x4]
yes, yes, I shall enjoy soft cakes, toast, tea, scrambled eggs,
strawberry jam...
mind you, I can't complain, before I came here I thought
scrambled eggs were supposed to be brown and crispy at the bottom
and dull yellow at the top
my mother, god bless her, cannot boil a fucking kettle
without burnin the water inside
When I came here it's a different story, you know, oh yes,
a whole different deck of cards...
scrambled eggs arrive with the consistency of a moth swimming about
in a foul yellow liquid
I wonder where that came from?
I would like to put forth my theory
my own inside story, if you will
you wanted to know what I think
I think that every morning as we sleep
our beloved kitchen staff gathers around the scrambled eggs
like some pagan cult offering homage to a false icon
first, the head chef, the cult leader, ritualistically stands on an
institutional chair, opens the fly of his
institutional trousers, pulls out his
institutional willy, and urinates in our breakfast.
HA HA HA!
they're just a bunch of loonies, what do they care?
half the bloody time they end up throwing it on the floor
or worse still, at each other... |
Weightless
(on Glitch, titled Image of Red Cut in Half; poem about Peter Frampton(Who:))
Peter Frampton
sits alone in his shriveled black home(hole?)
searching his gruesomely mutated memory for some kind of clue
as to the whereabouts of his penis
he sits on baby, i love your way
and slowly unbuttons his (something) trousers
Slowly, he pulls down his tattered flares
and holds a mirror underneath what once was
bounty, bitch, man (undecipherable)
(??) the mirror with his heavily inverted resolution
fifteen years of (penile servitude??)
between the white (piper and rat heart????)
and the murderer, it is possible to see
(? ? ? ?)
one martyr of an ancient land
execute this preacher's (???)
oooh baby, I Love Your Way!
he touches and he touches, he has nearly won
with a slightly sinking forefinger
the man can't get off!
and searches slowly across this train of thought
in search of a better hope |
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