[i get this feeling, it’s such a bitch]

 

or all of the suicides out

freezing in the sun, or all of the rest of

us laughing in empty rooms

 

drowning behind closed doors with

severed hands and crippled hearts and

are you here to apologize to the junkies or

are you here to wipe the earth clean?

 

are you in love with

the idea of being in love?

 

it happens all the time

 

the age of unwanted children

                             never ends

 

truth, supplanted by the

idea of truth

 

j christ and all his crippled sycophants

looking for a fix, looking for

the asshole who owes them $50,

looking for teenage pussy while me &

st. amanita are out drowning in the sunlight,

out crawling through the desert,

alive in this year of dying but

worried about the future

 

junkies and suicides and the

always-rising cost of freedom

 

the tyrants and their whoreboys

 

and you gotta fight, guns or no guns,

and you gotta be ready to bleed

because every age is the age of fear

 

every forgotten song is

the one that should’ve gone to #1

 

and we know the words to all of them,

me & amanita,

and we choose life over

life spent on our knees

 

we drive through

ghost town after ghost town with

the radio up and our windows down

 

with our tongues cut out

 

no one hears the truth if all they’ve

ever known how to do is talk