same old spin on a whole new thing
half a dry vermouth and half a highway fling
don't stop to smell the nitrate, we're vermin on the loose
sprawling scattered shattered cars
and waning winter blues.
same old wrap on a whole new trap
venetian shoulder blades that shun the shoulder strap
with vapor trails that last till your very next breath
we're revving up for dead end drives and
blowing limpid meth.
don't stand up and face it when you can't outrace it
transgression, motherfucker, can you fucking taste it?
my finger's on the clue and the houdini flew
we're stalling for the suspense
and we'll do you in, too.
stop breathe rinse repeat
frolic street, galvanic beat
ringside seat, are you the prized elite?
are you shining shoes for the indiscreet?
when the gutters all die and char the skies
you can read us words from the choking wise
whackshow parish with the god of wounds
if we're brought to our knees
while your heavens rise.
and if you must insist upon the iron fist
of the vengeance of a god we've so dearly missed
we'll submit and stop under the drop of the knife
trashing token locker rules
from our former shocker lives.
we'll take it in stride and honor your pride
we'll speak when spoken to and we'll run and hide
we'll suffer sharp crimson shame and hurt at your hands
we'll pay penance for our ways
as your reverence demands.
and when all's said and done and you've rusted our guns
we shall live and speak and thrive as one
with our distilled souls and lustrated hearts
you will etch our ends and we'll play our parts
and maybe you'll forget in the thrall of your art
that we still possess the means
to rend this apart.
