Chasing down the demons in a getaway car
Stitching an exit wound,
They've been lost here for a couple of miles.
Casting all their shadows on religious retreats
Planning to spend the night,
They'll be dead here in a matter of hours.
As your shoulders turn on you,
You're left with nothing but a spine.
As your shoulders turn on you,
You're left with nothing but a spine.
And how we dance!
And how we sing!
And they just stop and stare and
Stop and start the fucking riot.
An hour has passed.
An hour to go,
And they just stutter speech and
Speak to spare the new messiah.
Chasing down the angels in their holiday suits
Demanding enlightenment,
It won't be found here.
Heaven's closed for repairs.
The bible tells its stories with a fancy façade
Its message cannot compare.
I would rather write my own rulebook.
As your shoulders turn on you,
You're left with nothing but a spine.
As your shoulders turn on you,
You're left with nothing but a spine.
And how we dance!
And how we sing!
And they just stop and stare and
Stop and start the fucking riot.
An hour has passed.
An hour to go,
And they just stutter speech and
Speak to spare the new messiah.
As a poet in contempt, I hold myself responsible
For all the actions I have taken in my time here on this earth,
And all the victims in disguise are held accountable as such
Instead of fighting their own fate and crossing paths with the Judge
Because if Jesus taught you everything, then nothing's what you've learned.
You could build islands with those hands but they're rejecting what they've earned.
And if Jesus told you anything, then nothing's what you heard.
Your ears both form opinions while your mouth changes the words.