Music, ****,  memories and exile
Not exactly math but add up to
Dead and Dancing
Its all just electric chemicals,
Leftover love from a critical cannibal
Frankenstein in a world of human monsters
No hunting here, no seasons left sans winter
Worse than fire for a dry and dead old man
these used to be,
Such big strong hands
But a hoarse voice burnt out on cursing a maker
I cant uncurl, the hate in
These fingers love

Black sheep of white trash
Cold blue pulled you with old truths
Never was good at changing in a phone booth
My pockets to full of bits of proof
Of what I don't care anymore, of that actually
Isn't so rare anymore
Dust to dust and I wouldn't test my metal or rust
Sword invert on decisions made on fade to quick
Blame it on a curse but i'm just a klutz
Blind and swinging now I guess
Just because