Hands are red with your blame
Megaphone screaming my name
Whimpers someone I should've loved
Souls weeping above
I've seen
What you're doing to me
Destroying puppet strings
To our soul
Micro waves me insane
A blaine cuts in your brain
To sounds like forks on a plate
Blackboard scratched with hate
I've seen
What you're doing to me
Destroying puppet strings
To our soul
Evil S I yes to find a shore,
A beach that doesn't quiver anymore,
Where we can crush some plants to paint my walls,
And I won't try to fight in the weekend wars
Was I? I was to lazy to bathe
Or paint or write or try to make a change.
Now I can shoot a gun to kill my lunch
And I don't have to love or think too much
Instant battle plans written on the sidewalk
Mental mystics in a twisted metal car
Tried to amplify the sound of light and love
Christ is cursed of faders and maders
M
