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lyrics

God:
Footsteps counting in my head, puddles deeper than the dead, and if you take it from me, I don’t need reality.
Hear the unborn in their sleep and their life is suffering and when they wake up they scream, until they learn their routine.
Oh boy, you got it real bad, I just cut my hair and cup you in my hands.
She left on the train, petals in the rain that you’ll never see.
God, with your leather boots and your head in your hands, the sunlight blasts in shafts through turning fans, and if you eat me I’ll go, and I’ll kill you all, and I’ll stand out there as if I had any choice at all.
To call you by your name, or wrap up in your brain, and if you fake it I’ll know, but I’ll take it anyhow, and I’ll eek it out and hold it down and smother it ‘til nothing else comes out. And if you run now I’ll find, with sugar-acid dripping from my mouth, I’ll condemn those clowns and hounds unbound and send them to the ditches in the ground.
Oh boy you got it real bad, stick this in your vein like coming in your hand.
Feel the eyes all follow me, as I’m walking down the street, and if you feel it they know, and they’ll erect their shrine of gold and stand out in the cold and they’ll speculate the date you blew your brains out at your home, and they’ll wish they could let it go, and relinquish their control, and articulate the nuance that came flowing from your soul. They’re starry eyed for death but loving every breath and craving life that’s passing out until there’s nothing left, and breaking at the knees under the air that we breathe, but still waking up each morning to go sweep the fallen leaves and its getting tighter I know, and I’ll kill you all, and I’ll stand out there as if I had any choice at all.

credits

from Degenerate EP 1, released August 1, 2019

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Tom Ashman Scotland, UK

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