When the pen's left dry
Your visa card expired
A sympathetic witness with a kindly disposition won't save you all!
I read it in the magazine that nothing else will change!
Shut your face! shut your face!
Backtrack markings, modern dates
Figure 8s, falling suns
Cutting pasting local rapes
I have grace
F*ck that grace!
You're the artist, not the slave!
Murder can be law
But don't forget the hype
The endless reels of numbers
A syncopatic now asphysiated common logic won't save you all!
I read it in the magazine that nothing else will change!
I have grace
F*ck that grace!
You're the artist, not the slave!
Shut your face! shut your face!
... (?)
I have grace
F*ck that grace!
You're the artist, not the slave!
Murder can be law
It all occured to me
The ease of being this free
Close your eyes
Become blind
Leave or wait
Your heart awakes!