She murdered the present tense
My reverence is her defense
I’m faking a psychic sense
My records don’t ever spin
Her beautiful mind has been
Disloyal, god’s royal sin
I’ll soil, her spoiled grin
Held my head under the sink
Fixed myself a stronger drink
Pills go down, and I drown beneath the sea
They can’t put the blame on me
My brain is a puzzle piece
Her heart is my drunk police
Pain pills are her will’s release
Freedom lives inside my pen
Zombies tread in Manhattan
A pattern of battered men
I meet them in dreams again
Hid the truth behind a prayer
Kept my lungs from tasting air
Comatose, took a dose of nothing’s-there
Smoked a bit of who-would-care?
Bring me to precinct fifty-two
Talking to these old boys in blue
They drew my brain and called me gay
The sporty thugs of yesterday
I’m passing through time, a victimless crime (those victims were mine)
I can’t make a sound, I’ve already drowned
Around and around and around my thoughts are getting
Loud, they’re too loud, Ask the crowd, are you proud of me
Take one more breath, and ask death who I should be
Please Call 9-1-1, Oh look what she’s done!
She’s sprawled on the floor, Her body is numb
I’m dumb, I’ve been dumb, I’ve been dumb, some father I have
Been, and again, and again she writhes don’t cry tonight
I’ll always love you
She’s alive, my baby girl is on crack, I’ve got eyes
Who am I? When parents sit on their hands baby dies
I’m alive! Where the fuck am I tonight? vision’s black
I despise this violent hospital bed, cloaked in white
Throat is tight the sunshine eases the pain
I’m alright this deadline freezes the rain
I’m not quite the same, I’m nameless tonight
You’re alive, my baby girl is on crack and she lies
You’ve arrived, why are you acting surprised that I tried - ?
Never mind, a modern Bonnie and Clyde gone off track
Take it back, the memories that I lack aren’t mine
Bags are packed the sunshine eases the pain
This long practiced deadline freezes the rain
Heart is black with shame, I’m aimless tonight
It’s a dangerous game we’ve been playing, it’s insane, living in fear
No one's innocent
Screaming sounds so dissonant
I need empathy
And a stoic, quiet sea
Look at this predicament
It was all so imminent
Larks singing happily
Always seemed to sadden me
Play me like an instrument
Fuck your false imprisonment
You are the cherry tree,
In my cemetery, see?
Roll along so merrily
Time is liquid apathy
No one is magnificent
No one else but you.
Now we're getting intimate
Strung out like a ligament
Your eyes are so intricate
Posing like a militant
With some criminal intent
Bullet shock won’t pay the rent
Fuck a merchant’s sentiment
Mercy isn’t heaven sent
Getting fucked on filament
Treat me like an immigrant
Frozen in the cracked cement
Watching Dante’s last descent
Speaking while my money’s spent
In a vain establishment
I’m the false equivalent
I swear that I’m innocent!
Cast out of Milton’s prose,
These truths decompose
I need, need to let go of their nightmares, replace them with grace and grieve
I looked through the ages
And the blank pages made me leave this world behind
You sound so privileged like you have lived in the nicest hell your mom could find
How could you truly believe in the ghost you’re leaving like a breeze.
Love is warmer than prison but I won’t listen to the ghost stories
What is perfect and why is my mind not right? Just breathe…
Breathing is sadness and sleep is my final sin goodbye, goodbye
Where is tomorrow? The time I borrowed expires and I’m sorry this memory that I forgot is ugly, Love me please.
Clear the table, turn on the cable see this dark fable unfolding he’s still holding on now, scolding me.
Well I’m tired of saying, “Dear mother I’m praying for slaughter, daughter learn to love betraying The holy
Ghost, Posting his bail, Jail him at home, he groans up-
Stairs, where are his meds? Feds at the door, knocking, asking for the boy I’m rocking to sleep.
Leave me alone
credits
from Teenage Terrorism,
released August 21, 2014
Cello - Adam Spiegelman
Double Bass - Petros Papadopolous
The Distractions are a post-industrial-sludge-ska-metal-punk-flies-on-shit type o' deal. If you play your cards right, you
might just figure out what that means some day, kid. We don't play your average dilly-dally rock and roll bullspit. We play that real dilly-dally rock and roll bullspit. And remember, don't leave the oven on!
Love,
Dad...more
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