1. |
The Pilot Station
01:48
|
|||
I don't wanna waste
another day in this hole.
I could be the cocaine
for the company CEO.
I could be the right wing
rigid cock on radio.
But I'm not sure a paycheck
makes the pains all stay at home.
Dying in my sleep
or sleeping til I die.
I don't wanna waste
another day in this hole.
I could be a jet ski
with a green fluorescent glow.
I could be an enemy
too close for you to know.
But I don't think I'm empty enough
yet to fill the role.
Dying in my sleep
or sleeping til I die.
|
||||
2. |
Aluminum Saturn
02:41
|
|||
I'm dragging on
and my hair's getting long
and my car's getting fried inside.
Dark liquid space's
dripping over my face
onto fields of hot fucking light.
I'm dragging on
with my gasoline songs
and a hole in each eye.
Aiming for one,
but my heart's set on none,
and I'm burning the fuck alive.
|
||||
3. |
Hoom
02:58
|
|||
Suddenly it is dark and I can tell no one's around.
I am shaking in waves, but somehow I have yet to drown.
Body's feeling well, although these bones never did heal.
And it seems even in this afterlife my skin won't peel.
I'm sailing home inside my velvet box.
I'm sailing home, safe in my velvet box.
In the parallel universe I came from all is well.
I can hear the stomach acids bubbling from hell.
I remember looking up through throats coated with steel.
I remember enough to know that all of it was real.
I'm sailing home inside my velvet box.
I'm sailing home, safe in my velvet box, safe in my velvet box.
|
||||
4. |
Chemical Blu
03:48
|
|||
Curled up in slick back kitchen sinks,
I think it must have been
the underside light you've seen.
Packed up and dreading to go
at one last second sloppy sound
to take the whole world down,
to undermine what you've seen.
Another freeway away, I race in,
you've been leveled to stay,
another night left to dream.
White, soft decay,
one quiet day.
God is a headlight in space
and I'm at peace in the digital black,
in love with walking away
with the deer and dotted lines.
I found the body and the limbs,
this woven, warm, and dirty skin,
but I can't quite feel where you have been
going 85 miles an hour.
I can't quite feel where you begin
to undermine what you've seen.
|
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