1. |
Trading Tokens
05:04
|
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Pockets rattle, rattle loud.
Hand to god, hand to mouth.
Some hands tighten, others spill,
always feeding, never filled.
Life is work, it fills the time,
earned minutes, stolen lives.
Pockets rattle, now you're deaf,
trading tokens are all that's left.
Sounds a battle, awful loud,
million hands, dozen mouths,
stacked like change, spent and killed.
Child eaters never filled.
Bloody work blood money buys,
earn a living stealing lives.
Screaming pigs, the meat farm's deaf,
Trading tokens drawing breath.
Bedposts rattle, rattle loud.
Cries to god from moaning mouths.
Muscles tighten, fluids spill,
penetrated, never filled.
Body work paid in sighs,
we're the change us little lives.
Work's the value of our breath,
we all get traded,
nothing's left.
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2. |
Aether
05:35
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Come for the feature, stay for the view.
I got the creeps 'round the ceiling, they're coming too.
Come in open-handed, you'll get a few.
I couldn't reach you so I went through
all of your friends and your teachers,
they're worth talking to.
We stayed up late with a bottle and learned of you.
I'm off in the aether, play my tune.
Piper for the creatures that followed you.
Don't look so despondent, just make some room.
Not getting hung up, just trying to say
'bout to be a come up, it's getting late
I better sum up, lay it plain:
Creatures turned tails-up, you've been made.
I'm off in the aether...
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3. |
Suicide by Cop
07:04
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(Lets start at the end, lets not bring up the contents,
our guts have seen to that - spread out in the dirt.
Tablets swimming in gin and nothing else.
But if we must lets paint a picture with them,
hang it by our gallows and pretend to endings with some fanfare)
We could have done this the hard way,
take the grind of the day to day.
No matter what you say we'll pick the ball up and walk away.
Making right of the wrong way,
all that life getting pissed away.
I need the rot and I cant wait,
got a king to be crowned one day.
Can't carry on, getting gone
cut the rope and I'll be down at the finish line.
Started me off with a shot
trying to run towards the guns at the finish line.
Here's the last stop, fair cop,
pull the other one it's down at the finish line.
Here's where I get off, suicide by cop
I want those guns at the finish line.
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