Doctor Polly hop-a-long faster than the panic of a bomb threat at a Comicon.
And I'm probably wrong,
but I get the feeling I'm headed back where I started from.
Start the song.
We said and we won't regret it, but we'll still get better, and we'll be more selfish.
Don't fret it if you feel like yelling,
it's a real loud world, baby, there's no tellin em.
Who's your best-
Who's just stress-
Who's around when you bake that bread?
Fuck off if you're not about the craft.
You can prove it with your heart,
You don't gotta do the math, at last!
And from the top to the bottom you see infections that rotten the brain cases of all artists.
It's a rare disease - to love yourself, more than me.
I'm smooth as silk. ;)
My cauldron overfloweth.
Stewing in my own cheap stoicism.
Found footage of my own short sighted vision,
Anecdotal evidence omitted without my permission.
Another sinister cinema spin - a rendering wretched - visage as wicked as sin.
And I never speak from within, I prefer to howl at the city lights.
Because this is how I sleep at night.
Back from the dead.
Bound to my vices like Christ to his dad.
When I bow, it goes right to my head,
So I stand up tall until age makes me bend.
You said it.
And your competitive pressure to pretend has no merit in my industry.
To dull the pleasure and pain of just dreaming when we'd rather feel the pinches, please.
These days on a wheel, spinning in infinity, turning into years.
We prey upon your fears.
Suck it up.
released May 22, 2014
all rights reserved