Panting in the silent grip
of a saline drip
Emerged from sterile walls

Eyeballing the institution
Screaming "Christ, how does a crosshair crawl?"

That's when he said
He wants to want to change

But I'm no tourniquet

Woken in the howling hour
Blinded by the glower
of a towering chum

"Take this" he said,
"It rids the creeping dread
But not completely
You'll never be rid of it completely."

In the desert
Stands a clock
It chimes out all our fates
and it's working are swarming w/ hornets

L. Dwyer knows what I'm talking about

DMs To A Child's Face

They say light travels faster than sound
Well I guess light gets around
And I'm getting round the world 
Just to taste your tongue

Your only crime
Was a truth that didn't match with mine
Now I'm stamping my feet
On streets that don't speak my mother tongue

A prism fell over my eye
As the rain fell in torrents
Building liquid tenements
A liquid prison for my mind's eye
A perfect perspective on life

A prism fell over my eye
As the storm hit the pavement
Building lightning tenements
A lightning prison for my mind's eye
A pristine piss-stained line

Our paths crossed twice
That's my cross to bear
Now I'm crossing mighty streams 
Just to breathe your lungs

Your only crime
Was your future didn't merge with mine
I sit and compare the handwriting 
Of women who've slighted me

Loneliness is a lonely road to walk down (when you're alone)

YOU SHALL JOIN THE RANKS OF THE HEADLESS ONES

There's ash in the hearth
The chimney sweep could yet have the last laugh
Lay down a sheet
Watch him demonstrate his nobleman's craft
As the bristles of the broom make the room glisten in the gloom
He's got the reprehensible gaunt reptile blues

There's ice on the cake
I think this arctic-themed party was a big mistake
Guests are leaving
Hosts are grieving
As sodium polyacrylate falls from above
I turn to you and say
"I love you in ways that Shakespeare wouldn't dare to put to paper, my love
But you've got the prehensile gaunt reptile blues"

Literary zombies
Write stilted short stories
Queue up to force all of their stilted words on me
Yeah I get the clichéd overused reference to the gaunt reptile blues

Gaunt Reptile Blues

You're on your deathbed, aging asian dominatrix

Sensual Oriental Sadist

Old Octaves

Victims Athletic Theme

Flight Path

Flight Path (Livewire 1350 Acoustic Session)

Jolene (Livewire 1350 Acoustic Session)

Still Ill (Livewire1350 Acoustic Session)

Ski Lodge (Live on Livewire1350)

If this ski lodge started to slip
It would reveal an alpine crypt
I'd watch your ursine star sign rewind
The rotting of a misjudged hiking trip

So don't tell me that a houseboat
Is just a castle with an infinite moat
I locked you away
and swallowed the key
and for days I felt a lump in my throat

My mind became a stick shift
My soul's direction stalled
A mesh between my flesh and my surroundings

My spine became a ski lift
I watched the cable snap
But still I had to walk right up the mountain

Sit and sip your de-caf
Listen to Edith Piaf
She's glumly intoning
Words that sap my serotonin dry
and stretch my eardrums tight

If you wanna flirt with my sister
You'd better learn to love her blisters
We could have a burns ward wedding
You could rattle her sick bed all night

You wanna see your name written in lights
(Not just the ones left over from Christmas)
And all I want for Christmas is a Fugazi t-shirt
and peace on the Gaza Strip

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Nick Trepka at the Cowshed Studio

A. Ski Lodge

I get this feeling sometimes
The one who ruined my life

I ain't special
I don't want no medal
I just didn't want to keep it so confidential

When there's blood on the dancefloor
Lipstick on my sheets
Vaseline in my pocket
I'll never again feel at ease

Did some terrible things in 2009
Did some terrible things in 2009
Was a victim of the times
God that stuff used to burn my eyes
Did some terrible things right about 2009

When there's blood on the dancefloor
Lipstick on my sheets
Vaseline in my pocket
I'll never again feel at ease

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Nick Trepka at the Cowshed Studio

AA. Vaseline

Victims Athletic, described in some circles as "England's premier warts" and winners of the East Herefordshire Housewives' Choice Award three years running, were formed in 1973 by the good Reverend Rubye Shelton with the intention of bringing early Renaissance Music to the masses of North Carolina. Now with a newly reformed line up including the aforementioned Rev on ancient bandora, P. Sutcliffe on triple bass (unstringed) and hideous fiend Arthur Sideways lurking in the shadows muttering discouragement, they hope to collectively transform into a falcon made of lightning and enter the national grid. Available at short notice, will accept genuine ivory in lieu of payment etc.

dmeesh

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