Tytuł: Invalid litter dept

• Wykonawca: At the Drive-in
• Wyświetleń: 306

  
   Intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies
  that had knocked the pins down
  as their shoes gripped the dirt floor
  in the silhouette of dying
  dancing on corpses' ashes
  
  yeah, they had plans for him
  they has spun the last of the pimps
  corduroy, satin nailed jewelry lips
  while the guillotine just laughed again
  dancing on the corpses' ashes
  
  paramedics fell into the wound
  like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant
  an anesthetic penance beneath
  the hail of contraband
  
  they had been defected and excommunicated
  and all the pulses were subverted
  and they made sure the obituaries
  showed pictures of smoke stacks
  
  a vivid dissection that mocked
  the strut of vivisection
  semi-automatic colonies
  and a silencing that still walks the streets
  
  in the company of wolves
  was a stretcher made of
  cobblestone curfews
  the federales performed
  their custodial customs quite well
  
  callous heels
  numbed in travel
  endless maps made
  by their scalpels
  
  on my way
  nails broke and fell
  into the
  wishing well
  
   The first day
  I felt changed
  I felt removed and broken
  Over man
  Over God
  But weak by the same token
  
  Wherewithal
  Has dissolved
  A soulless apparition
  Loss of choice
  Lost my voice
  Condemned and then conditioned
  
  I turn my eyes up to the sun
  And stare ahead as if there's none
  Mere cinders where my eyes had been
  Forced to forget the things I've seen
  
  My limbs move
  Without will
  My thoughts without emotion
  Ignorant
  Of my cause
  But with complete devotion
  I'm sent forth
  To collect
  Another bitter harvest
  A cruel trial
  To find out
  Who they can push the farthest
  
  I turn my eyes up to the sun
  And stare ahead as if there's none
  Mere cinders where my eyes had been
  Forced to forget the things I've seen
  
  Mowing down
  Rows and rows
  Like waves of flesh, blood, and bone
  Staring blank
  Into space
  No sign of life on my face
  Empty man
  With a gun
  What on earth have you done?
  On your knees
  On your knees
  For the land of the free
  
  I turn my eyes up to the sun
  And stare ahead as if there's none
  Mere cinders where my eyes had been
  Forced to forget the things I've seen