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Saw you workin' at the salt mine something something African child.
Syrup-stained strand t-shirt with high-fructose bile.
Riki-tiki Tembo, not enough surrender in your eyes,
for our fetish "feeling" outbursts and our hegemonic highs.
Words spill from our face, over tongues all soiled, seeded by our master-grace.
Levinas' "Otherwise" can't be seen beneath the angle of our chins and eyes.
Make it right, set yourself on fire, and be a light. Make it right.
He will raise you up on wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you like a star to see, just how fucked up it's become.
Soulless super-soaker hard-on for the work we've done.
Appreciate our possum posse with both brick and brawn.
And it's like a ticking time bomb our departure date.
Liturgy, the clergy, oh gee! You'll just have to wait.
Our suffering is just a yarn,
any time we rebuild any brick or barn
pull the thread, watch it come down, maybe a day or two after we have to leave your town.
Soulless minds for soulless men,
pick yourselves right up and try again.
when you're "dying" for your Host,
don't forget to make a Facebook post.
released May 23, 2014
Recorded, Produced and Mastered by Todd Buckless @ Scruffy Studios