1. |
Old Ghosts
02:50
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Never lost sight of the hate in all of those goddamned days.
Grabbed it by the wrists and held it in, chewed it raw.
Made the smile and the handshake, prison clay and lungs dragged over
gravel. Always dreaming of a conjugal visit with sadness.
Wardens dressed as angels stealing air from under the wings of hope.
I saw the other side and wanted to be there. Shackled, still I kept the faith.
Made the kiss and the embrace, preparations for the communion of betrayal.
Now I make my way home just to strike them down.
Strike them down. Bring them to their knees.
Now it's finally my turn so pick a direction and run.
Run, cowards, run.
Jackals in the pack, they hide behind their masks with the weakness beating inside.
Rip away the disguise when prodigal sons return home newly strong.
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2. |
Year of the Coyote
02:05
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Years of wasted struggle and sacrifice.
Worn thin by the love of an absentee ballot.
Caught you on your way out just like everybody else,
but you didn't even leave a note.
What's learned is so far from what hurts, and as time goes by it only gets worse.
I slam my fists down into the floor, so I might sink into the earth.
Sick to the bone weathered by the world.
You counted me off through the year of the coyote.
I removed the trust from the city lights, but they kept burning me.
Once terminal for you, now I'm a fever on a rampage for a cure
grinning all the way to my euthanization. Year of the coyote.
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3. |
Babel
01:34
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Fear is the building block for the towers of commerce,
sanitized and immaculate, ready for consumption.
Stuff the animal. Manicure destiny. Cheat my soul. Challenge my integrity.
When selling is the bottom line I'm too far down the hole.
It's feeding time and we've all stalked down our piece of the lie.
It's feeding time. We eat our history, ignore the signs.
Bowed down in front of the shit,
the profit (prophet), the god of the mud.
Nothing is real when we're this full of filth
and we'll never wake up...
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4. |
||||
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(Instrumental)
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5. |
The Twelves
01:50
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If today is the end of the world I won't have to stay inside anymore.
My medicine makes me the enemy soldier committing acts of aggression on his own soil,
walking on air.
Stare me in my glass eyes. You can see my contempt for Atlas and the dead weight on his back.
Addiction choking me out, this is the song I had to sing when there was nothing left inside.
I derived a solution from a substance.
Nobody at my side. Reckless. Belligerent. Furious.
I'm broken and spent.
Feeding the insatiable hunger because tomorrow is a long ways off and I can't take it anymore – this salting of a sore throat.
Painkiller companionship in every word I spoke.
Under the heel of my boot the fury is felt as I crush the head of the snake that coils itself around my heart.
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6. |
Apparition
01:49
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Future fuck dolls and dead beat dads all sleeping sound in their beds tonight
and I stay up searching for a light that isn't fucking there.
The poltergeist of America comes back to haunt and reminds you of the loss.
Their faces across every shameless advertisement, so the truth had to be written in basements.
No matter which way I go, always running the rope.
I feel as if I'm gone to the wolves.
Ask yourself the only thing that matters
and realize that it's all tied together -
Do you kiss the ghost of love on the cheek?
or do you spend your life walking away from
the ghost of love in us both?
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7. |
||||
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When it all goes black collective amnesia is their salve for the wound.
Shitting it out in conspiracy smiles.
General anesthesia is their answer to suffering.
It's the holy fix that tears you apart.
Windows for each and every slave to his own proper destiny
or in personal torment.
They forces the mark in our faces and there's no guarding against the knuckles of the disease.
I tell myself "It's just a bloody nose kid so pick yourself up off the pavement. Don't let them watch you die."
Go on disciples of survival, show the world we're indivisible numbers.
We are the voice of thunder in the drought of the post-modern desert.
We are the kings of time with heartache singed into our eyes and all dirty animals
will kneel before us waiting for the sword, waiting for justice.
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