A minute, a second
A half-life, a minus
A segment, a blinder
Elective
He invites the storm
He lives by instinct
With fears that are
Taking division down to where I shouldn't be
Turn pockets run
Listen -
There is no use in trying to explain
Listen -
Is
Entropy's in, embroidered on skin
corrupt, latch-hook thin for show
You're in
Stretched on this city's grid
Sometimes I feel so well hid
Pinned
Said you were
10 feet tall, yeah and bulletproof
10 feet tall,
Take me down to the desert sea
I don't want to
Tracing oil trails and streaks of black,
serpentine, to certainties that
I don't want to talk
I roll my red eyes back
Closed
She walks forward over, over and backward
Forward over and over
Blue-eyed bloody lullaby
Less a lesson than an alibi
Shot from only
Old Mule by Arthur Smith (Spoken)
Old mule, you're the son
triggers fast, distracting rhythm playschecks and balances, the easy lifefinish
I've got you under my skin
I've got you deep in
