1. |
No Chill
02:33
|
|
||
|
I got no chill.
I got a fever.
Uh huh! My way
is oh so tragic.
I'm sucha schemer.
Uh huh! My way!
& if you'd see it my way,
you'd see I'm feeling.
& I chose to live my way.
It gives me meaning.
& I chose to lose each day.
Well, I got no other way.
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2. |
Darkspots
05:05
|
|
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It's like darkspots blinking
in a worst-case abyss pit.
It's like I'm up shit's creek
& I dunno what to sink with.
Blood or bile? Fill a suicase.
Say a prayer. Throw a tantrum.
I oughta hold myself hostage,
but I ain't worth the ransom.
Stick to one blank stare.
Go ahead & grab a dunce cap.
Join the crowd & kill a buzz.
Get your personality on tap.
Better watch for snags & clues,
all those second-guessing glances.
Better make good first impressions.
Who's to say when your last is.
Paranoia's in forgetting
that we're all in the same boat.
Better do some bloodletting
'til you're sure enough to float.
You deserve a soft life.
In my heart's a lost light.
I don't wanna think twice,
but, baby, is this alright?
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3. |
Summer Slasher
04:32
|
|
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|
I swear she's a ghostie.
She knows what she shouldn't.
I think in mostly the
whatnots of wouldn'ts.
Let's roam the woodlands,
get drunk with good friends,
make out on the bench
with the bend at either end.
I swear she's a pixie.
She knows what she's after.
She likes to fix me up
with good junk & laughter.
Raise high the roofbeams!
Look at the moon gleam.
No need to spoonfeed
the meaning of this to me.
I swear she's a martyr.
She knows what she'll die for,
while I'm trying harder
to find what I drive for.
Let's go to graveyards.
The dead don't break hearts.
Let's go & praise stars
that burn far from where we are.
Does your mother know
you choke girls for fun?
Have you stretched out your bones
to make room for the sun?
That summer slasher was
some sorta monsterpiece,
naked with me in a
bed made of mysteries.
Worship the one you destroy.
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4. |
Two Fools
04:44
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Some say I'm joker's backstroke,
but I'm dead man's float.
You are the world's worst shadow,
the light of my life.
Rode into town with
my little deathjester.
We do the old mess-around.
A spawn of Satan but
He musta just blest her.
Do the old mess-around.
You said it!
& I let it slip,
But you said it!
666
|
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Harvey Garbage Pawtucket, Rhode Island
RI DIY 666
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