1. |
Terminal
02:56
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2. |
Black Madison
05:38
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Your oldest son is in Africa
As far as you're concerned
You packed him up and wished him well
Your happiness is not okay
Why won't you wake?
He takes you out into the snow
And does it turn you on?
He sticks the needle in your arm
And does it burn your veins?
Why won't you wake?
The push, the pull, that turns you on.
Why won't you wake?
The push, the pull, what turns you on?
Why won't you wake?
Why won't you wake?
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3. |
Mr. Misogyny
04:35
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You decorate your house with bits of broken lives
Tp trick he lonely cancer eating your insides
Your leather ball gag fits you well and wears me out
Our teenage grinding go undocumented well
Our filthy hands draw circles in
Between our gnarled and
Missing teeth
We pant like dogs
So put us down
Tied tight to stakes of
Ugly tribes (release the vacuum, our wounds are hollow)
And no one wins
When we are
Losing touch
Seen too much
To be the children
We were meant to be
Release the vacuum (nobody's home)
Our wounds are hollow (your all alone)
It seems as though
You're scared of us
The temple mice
The flesh and flood
I'm the man on the wire
Left alone to conspire
Beyond your consumption
Beyond your consumption
I'm a fictional Judas
The kind that you write
When you're not here
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4. |
Useless
04:55
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Seems I've got time again
To filter this ache
Bones that went lurking
Beneath neon shades
I've been through heaven before
Time has no wisdom
It pulls at our teeth
Renders us ugly
Useless and weak
I've been through heaven before
You've been useless
Laying around, laying around
You've been useless
Grasping at hairs, grasping at hairs
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5. |
Impending Shot
05:42
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With a sweat to cut these wounds
My chest is caving inward
Your fantasies are growing bigger
By the minute it all we have to give
This fascination
It pulls us in
I can't see the brighter side
No I can't see myself this close to god
Your cure is your savior
Sweet psalms to keep you still
Lacking words I never said
I miss the words we never said
The only hope we have
Flesh from bone
Sucking spirt, selfish god
Throw the kids down the well
So our country can succeed
Medicating
I'm shaking from your touch
Keep changing
Cause this world is too much
Your matchbook strikes a chord (I won't rest 'til)
Dead beer and cigarettes (I've had my fill)
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The House of Thieves Texas
"A diverse spread of different musical influences, from progressive dual guitar shredding, to dub reggae influenced delay- drenched riffs. The band not only refuses to be confined by generic constructs within the band as a whole, but within individual songs. All the members are veteran musicians and bring an aggressive energy to their live performance." ... more
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