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lyrics
Story of a slaughter
People act as though the worst thing in the world
Is getting your guts laid out
Getting your teeth smashed and your hair pulled and your neck slit
But in actuality the worst thing in the world, in the universe, maybe
Is to feel and feel hard
To squirm, to be unable to let those receptors contort you
To never let you get comfort or peace
This is what we do every single day
No peace, no peace!
Who is at my right hand
When the pitcher makes the windup
And gets the groove on?
Who is at my left hand
When the gods channel their indignities?
Polish postal worker in 1825, city of Krakow
See the fees get cut in half
See his wages get cut in half
Goes home to the wife, goes home to the life
Goes home, home, home
This isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on!
You must be joking!
In all my years, I have never seen such repugnant indignities
As what you have described here in this brochure
In transient matters, we could have discussed a more suitable approach
But nothing so crawls through my skin
Like the proposal you have displayed before us!
Sir, I don’t want your money!
I don’t want your money!
You threaten me!
With your scales and timber hoofs
And lustful smiles, sir!
I don’t need your money
I can starve myself on my own, thank you very much
So please, if you could…
Could have been a voracious reader
Spent my time on Saturdays
Writing glorious lieder
From the pageless histories
Staring at very structured things
Wikipedia
Flashes in the rain
I can quote you Andrei V. on the screen
But if you met me at a bar
My knowledge would dispose of me
Flash down in the Seine
Scalliwags and ne'er-do-wells
Pain punishment points
I could write you Borges and it’s so gorgeous
But I sit and make nothing but forges
Lover’s child is gearing up for war
Midnight at hand, at 25
Making small talk in the cafe
Our love is alive, when you’re alive
See that man? He’s got a handkerchief
He can see smoke, way out of hand
Making small talk at the bar
And here comes a car, here’s the demand
Oh, it’s 3 AM, so call me again
Paranoia of being unemployed
Doomsday ahead, losing your friends
Could’ve been so tough, but no slackers abound
Life is around
Seriously, did you ever think
That no one likes work?
Is that what you’ve just found?
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