We've grown so close, like predator & prey. I wonder, will I lay in your jaws today? It's hot breath on my neck that has me frantic & I know I shouldn't panic, but I know that smell's on me. What's to say? Is this how we play? Fox, get the hell out of the hen house, you won't dine that way. It's a post modern kiss that has my nerves frayed. When I feel your teeth so deep, I know this blackest joke's on me. Cracking smiles or cracking bones; can we get back once the mouth's closed?

Track 4 off of Mechanistas

Fresh Kills

The Modern Time

Skeleton Dances

When the house lights go down, curtain opens & you've got me all dolled up; I will not act the part I'm cast, or read the scripted lines. When the run-up to the big night finds us in the schoolyard & you're crossing all the ones you've drawn I'll catch that punch your throwing; I'll keep it like a parting kiss. Bruises are what's become of this, X the eyes of all who're left. When the audience is roaring, over roses & standing O's, I will not give a hand I will not take a bow, now that we're only strangers w/ familiar faces cursing in dead languages: "We're severing these limbs before gangrene sets in." Hey, what's a bloody lip between friends? A word stained deep red? A night in another bed? It's easier to have me play the villain than just keep your end.

Track 1 off Mechanistas

We Keep It Like A Secret

New Oceans, Wet Leaves

I've let my nails grow so long I'm afraid that everything I touch I'll cut in two. I've spent too long patching this together just to have it come unglued through a slip of the finger or a flick of the wrist. But we all know a tongue is sharpest a moment after kissed. My mouth a wound this argument keeps opening w/o consent. Did you say the bathroom needed a new coat of red? We can paint it w/ out hands curled into fists. I've let my hair grow so long I hope that everything I've seen will fade from view. I've spent too long washing my hands of any blame to have it be untrue through the tip of a hand or a flip of the switch. But we all know we see better w/ the lights on in every room. The darkness nipping @ our heels, trying to find a new way in. You know you can never lock a door w/ a broken hinge.

Nine Old Men

This is the city that won't go to bed. It greets its morning w/ a red eye, a creeping, bleary kind of mean & a handshake like the men they're fishing out of the rivers again & again. Alarms clocks litter the streets, faces bleached a sickly white. Empty, staring, tossed aside & left to rot underneath the ceaseless crackle of fluorescent light, copper wire & stifling heat. The chatter from the mouths in this town is enough to cut you down, chew you up & spit you out; a reputation, a tarnished crown. Can we hush the klaxon wail of conversation on the knife's edge of a place that hasn't slept? Kept awake by a foul mix of self loathing & caffeine binge it tries to caress but only rends. A taint, a scrape, a crash, a stain. A city founded on the sound of steel on concrete.

You need to find one patch of green. A place to rest your head & sleep clean & guilt free. Clean & guilt free.

City of Sirens

Mechanistas

Chocolate Bayou

Two, two, two; I remember snowball fights in empty streets. Who are you now, so cold? The air in your wake bites like a thousand tiny teeth, to slip inside my clothes just like a thief & steal whatever heat's left in me. Summer, how can we feel the warmth you bring when all they're handing out now are steel gray skies & cutting winds? So brief, then it leaves me.

The Ear The Eye & The Arm

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