|
|
Monday, September 13, 2004
The Fighters
I feel energized
I'm fucking circumsized
If you want me to show you
I could
But the question is, would I?
Should I?
I didn't think you'd like to know.
So back on down.
Don't frown
I'm a fighter now
You better believe it
I'm fighting somehow
I'm taking this all to town
Fists're fury
Fire's burning in the deep
woods of my passion
Need the nestled home
of a lonely standing woman
To put it out
I wonder how I make it
I wonder how to take it
I feel like I was born to destroy
From this endless destruction
I'm making what you can have
If you want it
I was born to live a lie
I smile at the sight of strain
We're all bloody red
Our wounds need dressing
My wounds're showing
Maybe I just feel dislodged
I don't know for sure.
Speak some lies to me
About love and being free
Let me leave this place
Let me know your face
Let it be embedded in the canyons
of my memory
In the memory
Where the sun rises too high
Where the moon shines with those craters
That look like eyes
Crying tears
Crying tears, crying tears
Those're full of fears
Shedding down to the ground
Wetting the solemn soil
Come on everyone, be a fighter
Let your pain and anguish carry you home
Turn it into fire
Purge the darkness and aspire
Let the wicked things crawl all over you
Let them do what they do
They're hairy with long legs
They're dark with dirt
Let them do what they do
Use them to build your pyre
Throw it all into the bonfire
Watch it burn to ash
Working for the time
Putting it all forward
Shutting the doors
Writhing in the sores
We're becoming
We don't know what we'll be
Keep on fighting
Keep it up
Step up
We're full of power
While the strong sleep
The weary prowl
While the meek are weak
They speak
Over far away
In paradise lost in dismay
We shall reap what we sow
It is green there
And
It is full of trees
Sheltering
the withering bodies
Of hardship
And
Apples grow there
On the outspread arms of trees
And
The strong claim it
And
The strong own it
With a fighter's call
The natives go into battle
Go to their jobs and toil
Hoping to claim victory one day
I hear indians calling
I hear trumpets calling
I hear all about a stalling
Your future is there
Find it and wear it
Like death, which
Is fate that we cannot defeat
Comments
(1)
« Home |
|
