1. |
weak
04:54
|
|||
|
they shrink away from me
with conditioned surprise
don't even understand their hate
can't sift through the piles of lies
(can't look in my eyes)
they saw my face on the tv
with post-production eyes
don't even understand their fear
can't tell it's a pile of lies
(can't look in my eyes)
they shade themselves from me
with a well-schooled dislike
don't even understand what's wrong
won't see through the pile of lies
(can't look in my eyes)
they saw my face in the papers
with the bloodshot eyes
don't even understand a thing
won't look at the pile of lies
(can't look in my eyes)
they load their guns just for me
with a malicious delight
they never understood
never understood nothing
so they shoot me in the face
and watch me die
but they'll never look in my eyes
never look in my eyes
never look in my eyes
they'll never look in my eyes
|
||||
2. |
easy money
06:31
|
|||
|
come drink the wine
come eat the shit
come break every one of your
fucking bones
take a little bit extra
have a little more fun
come grab the handle
feel the metal
live with the best of the
worst ass holes
take a little bit extra
have a little more
come scratch your head
come pick your brain
come make every
bit of yourself feel pain
take a little bit extra
have a little more fun
come push the buttons
change the channels
live in the
hole that you fell into
take a little bit extra
have a little more
raise the flag then
burn the fucking pole
it's easy money for a
dirty, worn-out soul
come take the cake
come feed the lie
come die with a
million pathetic souls
take a little bit extra
have a little more fun
come kill your real self
taste the old blood
leave without even saying
"good-bye"
take a little bit extra
have a little more
raise the flag then
burn the fucking pole
it's easy money for a
dirty, worn-out soul
set them free then
shoot them where they stand
it's easy money crunched
up in the palm of your hand
"i am god,
i am fearless...
i will believe the tv."
raise the flag
burn the pole
never let the truth be told
forever hidden in your shadow
dark hides under light so shallow
raise the flag then
burn the fucking pole
it's easy money for a
dirty, worn-out soul
set them free then
shoot them where they stand
it's easy money crunched
up in the palm of your hand
"i am god,
i am fearless...
i will believe the tv."
|
||||
3. |
3 am programming
06:06
|
|||
4. |
weak (vli carstruck mix)
08:14
|
|||
5. |
4 am revelations
05:20
|
|||
6. |
aluminum foil
07:06
|
|||
|
he's got a gun in your face
he's got a knife in his hand
he's got everything
he's got a foolproof plan
he's going nowhere but he
feels like he's flying
there's nothing in his way that's gonna
stop you from dying
my head my head goddamn my head...
he's got a hope in his heart
he's got your head pulled apart
he's got everything
he's got a great place to park
he's falling fast but he
feels like he's soaring
there's nothing in his way to stop the
blood from pouring
(my head my head goddamn my head...)
just driving shit into the ground
i'll never stop falling down
stop fucking pushing me around
please let me go before i drown
just driving shit into the ground
he's living proof of death
his head is stuck in the sand
he wants everything
he takes up all he can
his head's in pieces but he
feels so enlightened
there's no one in this world that can
convince him he's frightened
my head my head goddamn my head...
he's sucking sodden air
he's lost in useless prayer
he wants everything
he took up more than his share
he's crying "uncle" but it's
too late for bribing
there's no one in this world that's gonna
stop him from dying
(my head my head goddamn my head...)
just driving shit into the ground
i'll never stop falling down
stop fucking pushing me around
please let me go before i drown
just driving shit into the ground
|
||||
7. |
||||
8. |
clot in the mainstream
09:18
|
|||
|
contact, bottles, fodder, fungus
torsos, values, afterglow
decaying natives, sharpened vagrants
praying, breezy-eyed ministers
missionaries breaking down someone else's
beautiful techno language
running chant, see-through rant
hummingbird feathers hitting ground
contact, bottles, fodder, fungus
whirlwind wonder, shaman shield
eat the seeds, holler, bleed
cut the running engine in its prime
stagnant, violent, subtle, breaking
shoreline pushes back every day
stuttering chaos, malnourished blood loss
fine-print billboards fall to the earth
celebrating shelter wrought of death and blindness
cheering down crowds of billions
rays, lines, sections, cuneiform faces
cellophane wrappers hitting ground
stagnant, violent, subtle, breaking
human nature just fucked itself
see this shit, listen, begin
you've killed your fucking children in their prime
|
||||
9. |
burn the pole
08:04
|
|||
indigae Enfield, Connecticut
indigae was willow washburn's NIN-worship project from 1998-2002
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