and the sounds of the saints buried in,
i got no sense for cents, for blood, for war
on the strereo the music plays for satan
in the name of god-ridden, the car had driven
million miles outside a place called heaven
and roar do the same thing blind bird crawls, across the owls circumference, then slowly falls
flock at the feet of the publicities
all these cities have their slits and twists, they chinese burn the technology outta our wrists, steal your bracelets
.. brace yoursely, bonny lads and lasses..
and the burn cremations of the business pits,
throw the snakes and the lions
in the dirty job, in the eyes of the satan,
saturn is a long way from home,
but the evil don't drone to fly far away from home,
they'll bite you in the ass, down to the bone
Author notes
run for cover
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