I was cross-eyed, stoned and painless
|
my pulse was up my eyes were red
|
my visions, situations, feelings
|
hung on my lips and burned me up
|
and 18 hours spent asleep
|
could not help me from thinking that
|
i had somehow managed to fool myself
|
i had missed the point while puttin' 'em back
|
|
I can't help from thinking
|
as my heart keeps beating
|
of what i'd love to do
|
to strip the flesh that hides these bones
|
bare my soul without a sound
|
burn my brain, lay waste to fear
|
though i won't live that many years
|
and i can't shed that many tears
|
|
Claustrophobic, paranoid
|
laughing at my routine cares
|
the charade of my brilliant life
|
had drawn a crowd these last few years
|
as i entertain my audience,
|
the stage was torn by all i knew
|
who took me to the moon above
|
wrapped my soul in linen cloth
|
|
I can't help from thinking
|
as my heart keeps beating
|
if i was jesus christ
|
and all the things i'd love to know
|
why i feel the way i do,
|
and what it means to be alive
|
and make yourself a sacrifice
|
to never have to live a lie
|
|
You take yourself so seriously
|
you're dressed in black but your soul is green
|
you've got an understanding of the world
|
that's only based on what you've seen
|
and if you'd just admit to yourself
|
that it's not such an awful place
|
the grim facade that hides your mind
|
may yet reveal a smiling face
|
|
I can't help from thinking
|
as my heart keeps beating
|
of what i'd love to do
|
locked away just me and you
|
if you can only see me through
|
and see what we could make it to
|
forget the things that need no proof
|
and see the world with eyes of fools
|
|
-----------------
|
Taste of Tendon
|
| Monks of Doom |
