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Thread: Answer with a line of lyrics

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  1. #1
    Queen of the Damned Aylen's Avatar
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    Yeah all this pushing and pullin ya
    It's bound to come to a killin' now
    Why does it always gotta be this way with us
    And before we make love we gotta draw a little
    Blood

    So you want to live forever, don't ya
    I feel your pressure drop
    And when I'm workin' the right side of your neck baby
    You never want me to stop

    What can I do to get over you
    I'm on a main vein search
    And I think I'm getting closer baby

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    A dusty and dreadful charade. Scapegrace's Avatar
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    Girls suck
    Girls suck
    They suck and suck and never get enough
    Girls suck
    They suuuuuck
    And I'm a girl 'cause I got rotten luck

    Well, one day a girl and guy made sweet, sweet love
    And so ya know how so she got knocked up
    So now here I am with nothing at all to do
    And my one comfort is that I'm better than all of you

    Life sucks
    It suuuuucks
    It sucks, but no one really gives a fuck
    Life sucks
    It suuuuuucks
    And I'm alive 'cause I've got rotten luck

    Life sucks
    And girls suck
    "[Scapegrace,] I don't know how anyone can stand such a sinister and mean individual as you." - Maritsa Darmandzhyan

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    There is no god up in the sky tonight
    No sign of heaven anywhere in sight
    All that was true is left behind
    Once I could see now I am blind
    Don't want your dreams you try to sell
    This disease I give to myself

    How does it feel?

    She makes it sweeter than the sun
    I get too tight I come undone
    I bow my head to confess
    The temple walls are made of flesh
    Runs up my arms 'til I'm on track
    Itches my skin right off of my back
    I'll heal your wounds
    I'll set you free
    I'm Jesus Christ on Ecstasy

    How does it feel?

    I am so dirty on on the inside

    How does it feel?

    Suck

    A thousand lips a thousand tongues
    A thousand throats a thousand lungs
    A thousand ways to make it true
    I want to do terrible things to you

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    she spread herself wide open to let the insects in
    she leaves a trail of honey to show me where she's been
    she has the blood of reptile just underneath her skin
    seeds from a thousand others drip down from within

    oh my beautiful liar
    oh my precious whore
    my disease my infection
    I am so impure

    get it

    devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest
    angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress
    need to contaminate to alleviate this loneliness
    I now know the depths I reach are limitless

    oh my beautiful liar
    oh my precious whore
    my disease my infection
    I am so impure

  5. #5
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    And I'm so dirty
    Call me daddy
    You're so sexy
    You can be my bad girl

    If someone hurt you
    And you tried to hide it
    I'll cut you deeper
    'Cause I know you like it

    Pain I got, girl
    Can satisfy you
    But I can't love you
    I won't even try to

    And that junkie urge
    Deep down inside you
    Couldn't keep my secret
    But I know you'd like to

    Girl, you never gon' get
    Love from a heart of stone
    Some of us were just plain
    Meant to be alone

    I'm all out of secrets
    I'm running out of lies
    And I can see the end, girl
    When I look into your eyes
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

    And I'm so nasty
    And I'm so greedy
    And I'm so lonesome
    Girl, I'm so needy

    I want to take you
    And make you my girl
    My willing hostage
    My favorite prisoner

    I'll be your owner
    And I'll be your jailer
    I'll be your lover
    Girl, I'll be your Savior

    I'll be your alpha
    And your omega
    I'll break your heart, girl
    And you'll call me later

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    They pulled in just behind the bridge
    He lays her down, he frowns
    "Gee my life's a funny thing, am I
    still too young?"
    He kissed her then and there
    She took his ring, took his babies
    It took him minutes, took her nowhere
    Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything, but

    All night
    She wants the young American
    Young American, young American, she wants the young American
    All right
    She wants the young American

    Scanning life through the picture
    window
    She finds the slinky vagabond
    He coughs as he passes her Ford
    Mustang, but
    Heaven forbid, she'll take anything
    But the freak, and his type, all for
    nothing
    He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
    Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
    She cries "Where have all Papa's heroes gone?"

    All the way from Washington
    Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor
    "We live for just these twenty years
    Do we have to die for the fifty more?"

    All night
    He wants the young American
    Young American, young American,
    he wants the young American
    All right
    He wants the young American

    Do you remember, your President Nixon?
    Do you remember, the bills you have to pay?
    Or even yesterday?
    Have been the un-American?
    Just you and your idol sing falsetto
    'bout Leather, leather everywhere, and
    Not a myth left from the ghetto
    Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
    In case, just in case of depression?
    Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
    Blushing at all the afro-Sheeners
    Ain't that close to love?
    Well, ain't that poster love?
    Well, it ain't that Barbie doll
    Her hearts have been broken just like you

    All night
    You want the young American
    Young American, young American, you want the young American
    All right
    You want the young American

    You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
    A pimp's got a Cadi and a lady got a Chrysler
    Black's got respect, and white's got his soul train
    Mama's got cramps, and look at your hands ache
    (I heard the news today, oh boy)
    I got a suite and you got defeat
    Ain't there a man who can say no more?
    And, ain't there a woman I can
    sock on the jaw?
    And, ain't there a child I can hold without judging?
    Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?
    Ain't you proud that you've still got faces?
    Ain't there one damn song that can make me
    break down and cry?

    All night
    I want the young American

  7. #7
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    I See That Lantern Trimmed Low Burning In Our Home.
    And Though I Feel Like Crying, I Swear Tonight, I'll Cry No More.

    How Many Times Have I Prayed
    That I Would Get Lost Along The Way?

    Dream With The Feathers Of Angels Stuffed Beneath Your Head.
    The Regulator's Swinging Pendulum.

    Come With Me And Walk The Longest Mile.

    Is His Wallet Leather? Is His Wallet Fat?
    For Not A Year Later It's Got You Lying On Your Back.
    You Should Have Closed Your Windows And Got Another Dog.
    You Should Have Chained Up All The Doors And Switched Up All The Locks.

    And How Many Times Have I Prayed
    The Angels Would Speed Me Away.

    Dream With The Feathers Of Angels Stuffed Beneath Your Head.
    The Regulator's Swinging Pendulum.

    Come With Me And Walk The Longest Mile.

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    If the sky that we look upon
    Should tumble and fall
    All the mountains should crumble to the sea
    I won't cry, I won't cry
    No, I won't shed a tear
    Just as long as you stand, stand by me

  9. #9
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    I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
    Now you decided to show me the same
    No sweeping exits or offstage lines
    Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
    Wild horses couldn't drag me away

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea
    From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating
    Another boy was sliding up the hallway
    He merged perfectly with the hallway,
    He merged perfectly, the mirror in the hallway

    The boy looked at Johnny, Johnny wanted to run,
    but the movie kept moving as planned
    The boy took Johnny, he pushed him against the locker,
    He drove it in, he drove it home, he drove it deep in Johnny
    The boy disappeared, Johnny fell on his knees,
    started crashing his head against the locker,
    started crashing his head against the locker,
    started laughing hysterically

    When suddenly Johnny gets the feeling he's being surrounded by
    horses, horses, horses, horses
    coming in in all directions
    white shining silver studs with their nose in flames,
    He saw horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses.
    Do you know how to pony like bony maroney
    Do you know how to twist, well it goes like this, it goes like this
    Baby mash potato, do the alligator, do the alligator
    And you twist the twister like your baby sister
    I want your baby sister, give me your baby sister, dig your baby sister
    Rise up on her knees, do the sweet pea, do the sweet pee pee,
    Roll down on her back, got to lose control, got to lose control,
    Got to lose control and then you take control,
    Then you're rolled down on your back and you like it like that,
    Like it like that, like it like that, like it like that,
    Then you do the watusi, yeah do the watusi

    Life is filled with holes, Johnny's laying there, his sperm coffin
    Angel looks down at him and says, “Oh, pretty boy,
    Can't you show me nothing but surrender?”
    Johnny gets up, takes off his leather jacket,
    Taped to his chest there's the answer,
    You got pen knives and jack knives and
    Switchblades preferred, switchblades preferred
    Then he cries, then he screams, saying
    Life is full of pain, I'm cruisin' through my brain
    And I fill my nose with snow and go Rimbaud,
    Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud,
    And go Johnny go, and do the watusi, oh do the watusi

    There's a little place, a place called space
    It's a pretty little place, it's across the tracks,
    Across the tracks and the name of the place is you like it like that,
    You like it like that, you like it like that, you like it like that,
    And the name of the band is the
    Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes,
    Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes

    Baby calm down, better calm down,
    In the night, in the eye of the forest
    There's a mare black and shining with yellow hair,
    I put my fingers through her silken hair and found a stair,
    I didn't waste time, I just walked right up and saw that
    up there -- there is a sea
    up there -- there is a sea
    up there -- there is a sea
    the sea's the possibility
    There is no land but the land
    (up there is just a sea of possibilities)
    There is no sea but the sea
    (up there is a wall of possibilities)
    There is no keeper but the key
    (up there there are several walls of possibilities)
    Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities.
    (up there)
    I seize the first possibility, is the sea around me
    I was standing there with my legs spread like a sailor
    (in a sea of possibilities) I felt his hand on my knee
    (on the screen)
    And I looked at Johnny and handed him a branch of cold flame
    (in the heart of man)
    The waves were coming in like Arabian stallions
    Gradually lapping into sea horses
    He picked up the blade and he pressed it against his smooth throat
    (the spoon)
    And let it deep in
    (the veins)
    Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities
    It started hardening
    Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities
    It started hardening in my hand
    And I felt the arrows of desire

    I put my hand inside his cranium, oh we had such a brainiac-amour
    But no more, no more, I gotta move from my mind to the area
    (go Rimbaud go Rimbaud go Rimbaud)
    And go Johnny go and do the watusi,
    Yeah do the watusi, do the watusi ...
    Shined open coiled snakes white and shiny twirling and encircling
    Our lives are now entwined, we will fall yes we're together twining
    Your nerves, your mane of the black shining horse
    And my fingers all entwined through the air,
    I could feel it, it was the hair going through my fingers,
    (I feel it I feel it I feel it I feel it)
    The hairs were like wires going through my body
    I I that's how I
    that's how I
    I died
    (at that Tower of Babel they knew what they were after)
    (they knew what they were after)
    [Everything on the current] moved up
    I tried to stop it, but it was too warm, too unbelievably smooth,
    Like playing in the sea, in the sea of possibility, the possibility
    Was a blade, a shiny blade, I hold the key to the sea of possibilities
    There's no land but the land

    looked at my hands, and there's a red stream
    that went streaming through the sands like fingers,
    like arteries, like fingers
    (how much fits between the eyes of a horse?)
    He lay, pressing it against his throat (your eyes)
    He opened his throat (your eyes)
    His vocal chords started shooting like (of a horse) mad pituitary glands
    The scream he made (and my heart) was so high (my heart) pitched that nobody heard,
    No one heard that cry,
    No one heard (Johnny) the butterfly flapping in his throat,
    (His fingers)
    Nobody heard, he was on that bed, it was like a sea of jelly,
    And so he seized the first
    (his vocal chords shot up)
    (possibility)
    (like mad pituitary glands)
    It was a black tube, he felt himself disintegrate
    (there is nothing happening at all)
    and go inside the black tube, so when he looked out into the steep
    saw this sweet young thing (Fender one)
    Humping on the parking meter, leaning on the parking meter

    In the sheets
    there was a man
    dancing around
    to the simple
    Rock & Roll
    song

  11. #11
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    Johnny was a schoolboy when he heard his first Beatles song,
    'Love me do,' I think it was. From there it didn't take him long.
    Got himself a guitar, used to play every night,
    Now he's in a rock 'n' roll outfit,
    And everything's all right, don't you know?

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans
    Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
    There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
    Where lived a country boy name Johnny B. Goode
    Who never ever learned to read or write so well
    But he could play the guitar just like ringing a bell

    Go go, go Johnny go go
    Go Johnny go go, go Johnny go go
    Go Johnny go go, Johnny B. Goode

    He use to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
    And sit beneath the trees by the railroad track
    Oh, the engineers used to see him sitting in the shade
    Strumming to the rhythm that the drivers made
    People passing by would stop and say
    Oh my, that little country boy sure could play

  13. #13
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    That one guitar, felt good in his hands
    Didn't take long, to understand
    Just one guitar, slung way down low
    Was a one way ticket, only one way to go

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    Ground Control to Major Tom
    Commencing countdown,
    engines on
    Check ignition
    and may God's love be with you

  15. #15

  16. #16
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    I see a shining....
    A sweeping from the clouds
    A glimmer of hope
    Is coming to feel our light

    Oh look it’s flashing
    This life among the stars
    Reaching out to know us
    To feel our might

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    Hey, he say hey-o
    Daylight come and he wanna go home
    Hey, he say hey-o
    Daylight come and he wanna go home
    Let's go bananas

    Work all night till the morning come
    Daylight come and he wanna go home
    Stack banana till the morning come
    Daylight come and he wanna go home

    Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
    Daylight come and he wanna go home
    Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
    Daylight come and he wanna go home

    It's six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch
    Daylight come and he wanna go home
    Six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch
    Daylight come and he wanna go home

    ...

  18. #18
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    Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
    Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
    I'm going back in
    okay, I lost my mind, it's somewhere out there stranded
    I think you stand under me if you don't understand me
    had my heart broken by this woman named Tammy
    but hoes gon' be hoes, so I couldn't blame Tammy
    just talked to moms, told her she the sweetest
    I beat the beat up, call it self defense
    swear man, I be seeing through these niggas like sequins
    niggas think they He-Men, pow, pow, the end
    talking to myself because I am my own consultant
    married to the money, fuck the world, that's adultery

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    I hear it fading
    I can't speak it
    Or else you will dig my grave
    We fear them finding
    Always whining
    Take my hand now
    Be alive

  20. #20
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    I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand,
    Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?
    These sensations barely interest me for another day,
    I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, take the shock away.

    It's getting faster, moving faster now, it's getting out of hand,
    On the tenth floor, down the back stairs, it's a no man's land,
    Lights are flashing, cars are crashing, getting frequent now,
    I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, let it out somehow.

    What means to you, what means to me, and we will meet again,
    I'm watching you, I'm watching her, I'll take no pity from your friends,
    Who is right, who can tell, and who gives a damn right now,
    Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know,
    Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know,
    Until the spirit new sensation takes hold, then you know,
    I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling,
    I've got the spirit, but lose the feeling.
    Feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling, feeling.

  21. #21
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    He bends and he breaks
    If he gives they will take away
    His passion, his pain, his grace

    He exhales,
    A thousand black flowers explode
    Into butterflies as they're away

    Rip them out, take them,
    Burn to coals as they crush and leave nothing
    That resembles a soul of a man
    See him numb, see him crushed
    Rip them out, take them
    Burn to coals as they crush and leave nothing
    That resembles a soul of a man
    Leave them numb, leave them crushed

  22. #22
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    When comes the shaking man
    A nation in his eyes
    Striped with blood and emblazed tattoo
    Streaking cathedral spire

    They say
    he has no brain
    They say
    he has no mood
    They say
    he was born again
    They say
    look at him climb
    They say 'Jump'

    They say
    he has two gods
    They say
    he has no fear
    They say
    he has no eyes
    They say
    he has no mouth

    They say hey that's really something
    They feel he should get some time
    I say he should watch his ass
    My friend don't listen to the crowd
    They say 'Jump'
    Got to believe somebody
    Got to believe

  23. #23
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    You know why? My tears have dried,
    And I know that no weapon formed
    Against me will prosper. And I truly
    Believe that my haters are my motivators.

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    In time bleeding wounds will heal
    Unlike some which are too deep to see
    Like scars in a nomads soul
    Their mending is so slow
    Not the shout of a hundred enemies
    Can make him feel fear inside him
    But when sun sets and the cold arrives
    With crushing solitude in the darkness of night

  25. #25
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    I'm on a mission from God I'm crazy
    This war I'll win for sure
    My middle name is Overkill keep watching
    You'll see that I will score
    Boom boom when we come across the sea
    Whatever we search for we will find
    Keep all your fingers to yourself
    I'm here to take back what's mine
    Hear me say
    Oooooooooooooh, this time you're all mine
    Oooooooooooooh, let it shine

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    Standing at the edge of the world
    I still fail to see what's out there for me
    Screaming at the top of my lungs
    Is there anybody listening?

    We're all emotional radios
    Human aerials in oblivion
    Calling all stations until transmission ends
    I am here

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    Hello,
    Is there anybody in there?
    Just nod if you can hear me.
    Is there anyone at home?

    Come on now
    I hear you're feeling down
    Well, I can ease your pain
    And get you on your feet again

    Relax
    I'll need some information first
    Just the basic facts
    Can you show me where it hurts?

    There is no pain, you are receding
    A distant ship smoke on the horizon
    You are only coming through in waves
    Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
    When I was a child I had a fever
    My hands felt just like two balloons
    Now I've got that feeling once again
    I can't explain, you would not understand
    This is not how I am
    I have become comfortably numb

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
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    I am a moth
    Who just wants to share your light
    I'm just an insect
    Trying to get out of the night

  29. #29
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    Quote Originally Posted by Within View Post
    I am a moth
    Who just wants to share your light
    I'm just an insect
    Trying to get out of the night
    You want a revelation
    You want to get "right"
    But it's a conversation
    I just can't have tonight
    You want a revelation
    Some kind of resolution
    You want a revelation

  30. #30
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    Thought I was different and it seems I'm just the same
    As a game I put my hand over the flame
    I thought, I was smarter as I flew into the sun
    But it turned out the way it does with everyone

    Oh, oh, I don't fly around your fire anymore
    I don't fly around your fire anymore
    Burnin', fallin' down so many times before
    I don't fly around your fire anymore

    I love the heat, I love the things that I forgot
    I love the strings that tie me down and cut me off
    I was a king, I was a moth with painted wings made of cloth
    When did the flame burn so high and get so hot?

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  31. #31
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    Wasted the morning again
    The world at the window is dead
    The look in your eye says you don't love me anymore
    Cool as a fire
    I'm alive I'm alive I know
    But now that I found you I don't have a choice
    With or without you I don't have a choice

    When nobody's watching I'm coiled in question
    Hiding the signs
    Because weakness wins if weakness shows
    Cool as a fire

    I'm alive I'm alive I know
    But now that I found you I don't have a choice
    With or without you I don't have a choice
    Now that I found you I don't have a choice
    With or without you I don't have a choice

    Gone with the weather
    Nothing ever lasts forever
    Gone with the weather
    Nothing ever lasts forever

  32. #32
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    It is so easy to see
    Dysfunction between you and me
    We must free up these tired souls
    Before the sadness kills us both

    I tried and tried to let you know
    I love you but I'm letting go
    It may not last but I don't know
    Just don't know

    If you don't know
    Then you can't care
    And you show up
    But you're not there
    But I'm waiting
    And you want to
    Still afraid that I will desert you

    Everyday
    With every worthless word we get more far away
    The distance between us makes it so hard to stay
    But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe
    It hurts but it may be the only way

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  33. #33
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    I've seen rivers rise
    Seen mountains fall
    Seen endless vistas coming to an end
    I've seen stars collide
    Heard oceans roar
    I know what it means to lose your only friend

    Nothing lasts forever
    That's what i've always heard
    All things good must end
    You know it's true

    Nothing lasts forever
    But maybe some things do

  34. #34
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    ^[I loved Man from Earth]

    Ran across the country fields,
    In all terrain, they had guns and dogs and everything.
    Swam a river try'n to lose my trail,
    But they caught me, under the bridge. Oh yeah!

    The sky is burnin' I believe my soul's on fire,
    You are, I'm learning, the key to my desire.

    The judge said, 'this man's a danger to humanity,
    We're gonna lock him up and throw away the key'
    Now, baby, your love has sent me to jail
    But I'd rather die than see you with another man

    It's burnin' baby, mm, mm; I believe my souls on fire

    I believe my souls on fire,
    Working on the railroad, every day
    But they can't keep me here
    And I'm not gonna stay
    I got to get outta this place
    I'll see you, baby.

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  35. #35
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    I count the corpses on my left, I find I'm not so tidy
    So I better get away, better make it today
    I've cut twenty-three down since Friday
    But I can't control it, my face is drawn
    My instinct still emotes it

    I slash them cold, I kill them dead
    I broke the ****s, I cracked their heads
    I'll bomb them out from under the beds
    But now I've got the running gun blues

    It seems the peacefuls stopped the war
    Left generals squashed and stifled
    But I'll slip out again tonight
    Cause they haven't taken back my rifle
    For I promote oblivion
    And I'll plug a few civilians

    I'll slash them cold, I'll kill them dead
    I'll break them ****s, I'll crack their heads
    I'll slice them till they're running red
    But now I've got the running gun blues

  36. #36
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    Skin against skin blood and bone
    You're all by yourself but you're not alone
    You wanted in now you're here
    Driven by hate
    consumed by fear
    Let the bodies hit the floor
    Let the bodies hit the floor
    Let the bodies hit the floor
    Let the bodies hit the floooooooor
    One - Nothing wrong with me
    Two - Nothing wrong with me
    Three - Nothing wrong with me
    Four - Nothing wrong with me
    One - Something's got to give
    Two - Something's got to give
    Three - Something's got to give
    Now

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  37. #37
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    Strung out eyes as cold as worship
    Two minutes silence in a century of screams
    Tiny massive hands, emphatic lonely soul
    Skin against skin and blood against blood

    This is the place where peace exists
    This is the place where my mind resists
    The fragments fail to hold me
    The fragments fail to hold me...

    When there's time I'll read your words
    There's no point disguising
    You're the one who's hurt
    Laid bloody and bare to see
    The effects will fail to desert me

    This is the place where peace exists
    This is the place where my mind resists
    The fragments fail to hold me
    The fragments fail to hold me...

    This is the place where my mind resists
    The fragments fail to hold me
    The fragments fail to hold me...

  38. #38
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    And now I'm on my own,
    Must I always be alone?

    I'm watching the sky, night is falling
    On another day where I can't change a thing.
    Will tomorrow bring a time where I can see the sun?
    Will there be another or are you the only one?

    “My typology is . . . not in any sense to stick labels on people at first sight. It is not a physiognomy and not an anthropological system, but a critical psychology dealing with the organization and delimitation of psychic processes that can be shown to be typical.”​ —C.G. Jung
     
    YWIMW

  39. #39
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    Six feet deep is the incision
    In my heart, that barless prison
    Discolours all with tunnel vision
    Sunsetter
    Nymphetamine
    Sick and weak from my condition
    This lust, a vampyric addiction
    To her alone in full submission
    None better
    Nymphetamine

  40. #40
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    There are no sunsets just silence
    You could see that she was true and faithless
    But see through the future and forget all the lies
    Black out the words for the blind have eyes

    I am the girl that wanted to be God

    There are times when you feel hopeless
    Just for once for no-one else we are blameless
    The dawn is still breaking its heaven is so high
    She told the truth, told the truth and then she lied

    I am the girl that wanted to be God

    Hold me she said love me to death

    I am the girl that wanted to be God...

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