Between the Never and the Now

Our days are numbered 666
And I'll begin the countdown by calling off the circus
Somewhere in these cryptic scriptures
I'll find myself drifting in a sky full of

Scars they cut into you
Blisters rose colored hue
Mayday we're going down
These mescaline memories are morose
Your kerosene company's comatose

Our days are numbered 321
When you bit the bullet
I held the smoking gun
Somewhere in these violent volumes
I'll find myself drifting in a sky full of

Scars they cut into you
Blisters rose colored hue
Mayday we're going down
These masculine memories are morose
Your kerosene company's comatose

And I would stick up half of my cold eye
To set you on your head
If I were you then I would memorize this loose lipped lullaby instead of waiting
Carving out your own

Scars they cut into you
Blisters rose colored hue
Mayday we're going down
Follow we went around

Scars they cut into you
Blisters rose colored hue
Mayday we're going down
These mescaline memories are morose
Your kerosene company's comatose

Something soulless told you it hates you
They wear the sheepskins, but you are the monster
Breathing men would kill
Lucy don't go hold me haunt me
tinctures taunt you, cause you are the monster
breathing men would kill
blame me for this as you sit in your counting room
coughing up blood just to spit in my mouth
soon you'll be gone and the rain will was you away
tucked in and gagged now say your prayers
Lipstick tourniquets work when the poison
begins to take hold. And for what reward?
So the simple can suck on the rinds.