The Corpses Of Our Motivations Lyrics

The Corpses Of Our Motivations lyrics

catching up in the basement that i call home. dismantling discussions on a piss
soaked telephone. i'm all grown up. i've thrown up these feelings lots before.
you're sitting in the park while i'm staring at the door enough self
mutilation. i've waterlogged and choked one hundred beers, another week
ensconced in yellowsmoke i'm no devil, i just have these demons keeping me
awake, pushing on my go-leg, laughing at cut brakes. the corpse of my
motivation hangs in the closet to the comfort of the grave. this coffin's full
of nails, rails and pipe and glass, rotting under yellow growing grass. five in
the chamber and i'm flying through the air. i've tied my blindfold tightly, i'm
cutting my hair. i'm a bullet and a target, and i'm drenched in splattered
blood. i've learned my lesson one time but once isn't enough. so dry your
hands, wash 'em clean of me. wave your victor's flag on your pile of debris
because when you die like a hero, you live like a slave. i'd rather die to see
it change than live and watch it stay the same where the corpses of my
motivations hang on the gallows over-ripe with sh*t like colostomy bags (pie
anyone?) there's a party in the woods and a dance in city streets and a rumble
down the avenue of fifty thousand stomping feet. and the fire is getting high,
igniting sweaty powdered brows. and if he hasn't saved you yet, he isn't gonna
save you now, ...and you're more beautiful than you were on the day that we
first met. my angel of the not yet buried dead.