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Papa Ghost Apr 2014
Kind words
Full mind
Modern Athena
In a Christian arena
Dominated by daddies
Along with other baddies
She's beyond and behind
Her time and her kind

She's an oddity
Of space and time
A pure mind
From an impure kind
She's Athena
Up in the air

Here I am
Name's Crowley, Alastair

I am the beast you ride
Anger, frustration
Society's deviation
I am the body you hide
Bloated and rotten
Tainted by your thoughts
And the rusted knife
That anger that bleeds then rots
I am the monster
What holds the power

She's an oddity
Of space and time
A pure mind
From an impure kind
She's Athena
Up in the air

Freedom within
Under the skin
Ideas ferment
Dry off like cement
She sees so clear
Words of opacity
An animated shadow
Pure tenacity

An angel
Here's a demon
Not even an equal
Just all the freedom
Gone wrong

Here I am
Name's Crowley, Alastair
Papa Ghost May 2014
You're the big spoon
And I'm the codeine
Intoxicated, in a haze
I don't get your gaze
I'm too high off of you
Too used to being numb
I actually think I am right for you
So dumb
You know what they say about ignorance
It's bliss
I'm addicted to the idea of you
That I'll miss
Because I'll never earn you
Emotionally, spiritually
Least of all physically
I'm too busy getting high
Aiming for the moon
Melting down like the stars
Addicted to hope
I still think I'm free
What's love without a little pain
Papa Ghost Feb 2014
Every time I think you're sick
I look in the mirror and see
That I've got the same disease
I loathe my thoughts so much
They make me freeze
And then I remember where they came from
You bred them into me
I learned them from you
If this makes me sound like a ****
Remember who is just as sick
That's right it's you
Now listen to this track
Be back in a few

It's never my fault
We have to stop the symptoms
But never the disease
It's always their fault
We have to stop the enemy in our bed
Rather than make the demons in our hearts stay dead

Is it a surprise I'm a demon summoner onstage
Calling forth the self-hatred in their hearts
Culling them away from their rage
Exercising exorcism like I do with words
You are the monsters
Pens are my swords
I only learned from the best
The best teachers in town
I'm so successful I dedicate this crown
To the ******* that made a blood pact
A deal that put me to a test
I don't want to ******* take
This portrait of us isn't real
It's ******* fake

It's never my fault
We have to stop the symptoms
But never the disease
It's always their fault
We have to stop the enemy in our bed
Rather than make the demons in our hearts stay dead

How does it feel
That I profit from our ozzfest
Our screamo shows
Our nu metal fest fodder
How does it feel that this drama
Makes me rich without trauma
I'm no Johnny Davis or Chino Moreno
Solo soy tu coseno
Adjacent to a hypotenuse of hate
An underlying burn I'm used too
I can't ever feel nothing
Because I always feel your burn

It's never my fault
We have to stop the symptoms
But never the disease
It's always their fault
We have to stop the enemy in our bed
Rather than make the demons in our hearts stay dead

It doesn't have to be this way
We can put our swords away
And face our demons together
We don't have to divide a house to fall
I don't have to come home appalled at the blood
The very blood in my veins boiling
We can live instead of toiling
**** the symptoms
Cure the disease
Don't make me freeze
When you never claim fault
So you can go to sleep in peace
And make me lay in pieces
I want to finish this song
But most of all
I want you to finish it too
I don't know how much profanity is regulated. So I'm sorry if any of my harsher words put you off. This is supposed to be a song. But I have no band yet. So enjoy.
Papa Ghost Feb 2014
Does she sound so sweet
Unless she disappears like heat
But she's a mirror outside
Underneath, she'll mysteriously hide
Queuing for something
Unless she's bored with me
Everyone bores of me

She is the sound of silence
Elder to all and some
Not a chance to be
I just want to be happy
Oh, she won't see me
Rather you left again
Too much focus on style having substance.
Papa Ghost Feb 2014
Angelic demons
Loaded with hives
Of violence and blood
A rash of tribes
Infected
Dissected
Inflected with sin
Built to lose
Broken to win
God is with us
In the end
To the darkness
We descend
This job is not ours
We did it for hours
Brick by brick
We built a wall
And then the third took a fall

We were on the rack
Never going back
On the rack
Never going back
Exit hell
Don't pass go
Paid in blood
Real slow

We saw red
Thousands dead
Needed a sacrifice
Something to gain
So they wouldn't be in pain
We fought in vain
Nothing but vanity
Murderous sanity
Forgive me father
For diminishing this sanctity
That you helped create
They pricked our lips
I poisoned the state
This fear means they won
Every victory
They gain unamerican sone

They are on the rack
We are back
On the rack
We are back
Back to hell
Where the blood swells
With good intentions
And no dissension

Security not guaranteed
If we are freed
We have no hope no will
Just buckets of pain and swill
Don't fight for the right
Fight for the pain
Fight for the fallen and the slain
Send them in pieces to their maker
Until you to are a husk
A baker
Of suffering and pain
Of bodies lain
Down in the name of hate
Our appetites will not sate
We will not satisfy
Until that desert is spread
Over the whole globe
We will only testify
Of the strobe
Of ashes and ashes
Dust to dust
These beliefs we once held
Sharpened with rust

Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
Burn it down
What do you get when you mix Supernatural, heavy mithril and punk political attitudes?

— The End —