Life is sweet.

I know why.

It’s a joy to waste time.

Not much left to conquer.

Not much overcome.

B:

Nothing else caught my eye.

I was born to get high.

When the walls are hollow,

when the floors are gray –

A & B:

try to have a good [...]]]> A:

Life is sweet.

I know why.

It’s a joy to waste time.

Not much left to conquer.

Not much overcome.

B:

Nothing else caught my eye.

I was born to get high.

When the walls are hollow,

when the floors are gray –

A & B:

try to have a good time,

try to slip away every day.

(oh) No matter what’s coming down,

odds are good it’s come before,

the best option’s to ignore it ‘til it goes.

They say it doesn’t hurt to drown –

you just let your legs go slack.

It takes focus to relax.

Well, you know.

(oh, no matter what’s coming down)

The sidewalk will catch me if I act too rashly,

a cushion of concrete planting kisses on my feet.

(oh, no matter what’s coming down)

I’ll float like a feather through months of foul weather,

awoken, with teeth ground.  That awful leaking brake sound.

(oh, no matter what’s coming down)

Metal cold, windows black – keep balance. Express track.

At home they are waiting for hours of self-negating.

(oh, no matter what’s coming down)

An endless attraction to pointless distractions –

comparing my patience to standby light constellations.

(oh, no matter what’s coming down)

My fingers keep sliding, somehow I’m still riding.

These minutes always last, while the months just stream past.

(oh, no matter what’s coming down)

The car shrieks and crashes – my coat pocket catches,

encrusted in clover, howling as we all turn over.

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

The river stopped.

The birds are gone,

crashed through our frozen windowpane.

My knuckles ache,

fingers stretched out.

The streets are fake –

I wish I could explain.

You could listen as I told the details of the day,

how each day’s shorter and more cold,

but I can’t bring myself [...]]]> Something’s wrong.

The river stopped.

The birds are gone,

crashed through our frozen windowpane.

My knuckles ache,

fingers stretched out.

The streets are fake –

I wish I could explain.

You could listen as I told the details of the day,

how each day’s shorter and more cold,

but I can’t bring myself to reach across the way.

They tore the lights out of the sky.

(oh) They tore the lights out of the sky.

(oh) You didn’t know.

(ooh ooh ooh) You didn’t know.

The buildings creak –

lamp poles bent down.

The bridge is weak,

but your alarm clock marks the year.

A frosted ring around the eyes.

The clouds are string.

I wish I could be clear.

I could tell you how it’s been since winter came to town.

Maybe you’d prick me with a pin.

You’d whisper “sun is overdue” to keep me from feeling down.

Even if none of it were true,

at least I know you understood the state I’m in.

They tore the lights out of the sky.

(oh) They tore the lights out of the sky.

(oh) You didn’t know.

(ooh ooh ooh) You didn’t know.

(I guess you didn’t realize)

(You didn’t even realize)

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

Try not to make a sound.

Hold close onto my coat

or we’ll be found.

Stay near to the wall as they pass.

Time for one final breath –

try to make it last.

The rumors chill my bones

(about the ones they’ve trapped).

The rumors chill my [...]]]> Hold close onto my coat.

Try not to make a sound.

Hold close onto my coat

or we’ll be found.

Stay near to the wall as they pass.

Time for one final breath –

try to make it last.

The rumors chill my bones

(about the ones they’ve trapped).

The rumors chill my bones,

but we’ll adapt.

Always be prepared to retreat.

There are worse things than monsters slipping through our dark city streets.

Grab every knife you see.

You better hold them close.

Grab every knife you see.

Let’s make some ghosts.

I always foresaw this bleak day.

If you want to survive,

you have to claim some prey.

One pellet in the brain

when they’re against the wall.

One pellet in the brain,

and watch them fall.

I don’t want to sound willing or mean,

but expect times like these to become routine.

EVERY NIGHT.

FROM THE TIME OUR OLD SUN FALLS DOWN,

‘TIL THE HOUR WHEN IT STRUGGLES BACK UP –

THIS IS NO TIME TO PROTEST OR TO DISAGREE.

THERE ARE WORSE THINGS THAN MONSTERS SLIPPING THROUGH OUR DARK CITY STREETS.

Hold close onto my coat.

Try not to make a sound.

Hold close onto my coat

or we’ll be found.

Always be prepared to retreat.

There are worse things than monsters slipping through our dark city streets.

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

miles below the ground,

trembling as the button’s pressed.

Silent, silent,

cracking through the mountains

its particles ingest.

Silent, silent,

beneath the harbor walls,

heading down the docks again.

Silent, silent,

breathing on the window;

it’s dying to get in.

(oh be ess ee ess ess ee dee)

Go back [...]]]> Silent, silent,

miles below the ground,

trembling as the button’s pressed.

Silent, silent,

cracking through the mountains

its particles ingest.

Silent, silent,

beneath the harbor walls,

heading down the docks again.

Silent, silent,

breathing on the window;

it’s dying to get in.

(oh be ess ee ess ess ee dee)

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

to try to forget the working day.

I’ve trained enough –

been practicing what to say.

I’ve done the research to death;

I think I can pass tonight.

I’ll wear the clothes,

I’ll drink,

and hope everything’s alright.

We can pretend this weekend.

We’ll be best friends this weekend.

before it gets too dark.

I’m trying to relax,

but insects fill our tracks.

The steps we leave are taken by

barbarians and slugs –

at least we have the kites above,

tied to us on strings of love.

Connected at the wrist

for one last summer’s tryst

I want to sacrifice myself to the volcano.

I want to see just how far down the fucker goes.

Throw away the burning reservations –

I might not get them back, but I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.

(ooh aah ooh aah)

I want to kill [...]]]> (ooh aah ooh aah)

I want to sacrifice myself to the volcano.

I want to see just how far down the fucker goes.

Throw away the burning reservations –

I might not get them back, but I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.

(ooh aah ooh aah)

I want to kill and eat everything in the caldera.

I want to stick the vitamins to my lucky bones.

Every little salted, white crustacean –

they might not hold me up, but I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.

And I won’t bring a rope to help my climb back.

I won’t bring a radio.

If anything waits across the gap

you’ll never know…

(ooh aah ooh aah)

I want to hammer through the rock of every chamber.

I want to drown in the ensuing lava flow.

Maybe it will “bring me new perspective,”

but even if it won’t I don’t care, I don’t care, look, I don’t care.

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

Eight years I’ve been off the road,

(shoo bop bop)

but life at home has been a heavy load.

(shoo bop bop)

Two kids and far too much land.

I know they won’t approve, but I hope they understand.

Late at night the bottle rattles,

rolling on the floor to [...]]]> (shoo bop bop)

Eight years I’ve been off the road,

(shoo bop bop)

but life at home has been a heavy load.

(shoo bop bop)

Two kids and far too much land.

I know they won’t approve, but I hope they understand.

Late at night the bottle rattles,

rolling on the floor to and fro.

Try to stay away if I can,

but oh no…

(oh) I thought that I could handle the abuse

the rolling wheels lay on me,

over and over again.

(oh) I thought that I could manage to stay loose,

but now it’s obvious I got bit again.

(shoo bop bop)

The day done, I wait for the call –

(shoo bop bop)

a reason to stay out, anything at all.

(shoo bop bop)

Slow down for one final score

to keep my hands from shaking as I reach for the door.

It’s all hugs and shrieking children,

housework that I haven’t begun,

no money, no quiet moments,

and no fun…

(oh) I thought that I could handle the abuse

the rolling wheels lay on me,

over and over again.

(oh) I thought that I could manage to stay loose,

but now it’s obvious I got bit again.

(la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la)

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

One last poem from the napkin, for your teary guests below,

but I’m not crying.

You’re still a fifteen-year-old industry captain.

You still cash the same old checks, and I’m not bought.

A few cheap months follow, [...]]]> You show up late when it happens, looking for a ledge and eyes to watch you.

One last poem from the napkin, for your teary guests below,

but I’m not crying.

You’re still a fifteen-year-old industry captain.

You still cash the same old checks, and I’m not bought.

A few cheap months follow, then it’s new stories and the clothes to prove them.

It’s all too much to swallow, but I let you explain

as you close your eyes.

To me you’re still a fifteen-year-old industry captain.

You still cash the same old checks, and I’m not bought.

On the phone you’re angry.

You say I’ve wandered away from where we dropped it.

You claim the years have changed me;

I’m the company I keep, and you “don’t know why.”

Because you’re still a fifteen-year-old industry captain.

You still cash the same old checks, and I’m not bought.

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.

the yellow ribbon meant to keep us out.

The helicopter overhead getting the footage of it,

the broken window he had hurdled through.

They said that he was split in two.

They said that he was split in two.

I couldn’t help [...]]]> With all the sirens I unwittingly had stepped above it,

the yellow ribbon meant to keep us out.

The helicopter overhead getting the footage of it,

the broken window he had hurdled through.

They said that he was split in two.

They said that he was split in two.

I couldn’t help but stand for a few minutes, fantasizing

as all the crewmen swept his suitcase out:

a healthy social life and a career in advertising.

I snuck away with both his tennis shoes.

They said that he was split in two.

They said that he was split in two.

I tried them on as soon as I stepped through the door that evening,

a conversation piece to chat about it.

Where they come from, I myself still have some trouble believing.

I hope they do a better job of keeping my feet true.

They said that he was split in two.

They said that he was split in two.

Go back to “Secret Weapon”.