i had a friend who kept a candle in his pocket,
|
he used to touch it when the wind was blowing high,
|
i guess it mad him feel like he could
|
buck the system and when it flickered out we laid him down to die,
|
turn on the light, turn on a million blinding brilliant white
|
incendiary lights, a beacon in the night, i'll burn relentlessly until
|
my juice runs dry, i'll construckt a rock of tempered beams and
|
trusses and equip it with a million tiny suns, i'll install upon the
|
roof on my compartment and place tinfoil on my floor and on my walls
|
then i'll turn on the light... and i'll burn lika a roman fucking
|
candle, like a chasm in the night, for a miniscule duration, ecstatic
|
immolation, incorrigible delight
|
|
-----------------
|
Turn On The Light
|
Bad Religion |