there is a finger missing on my right hand a butchers hand in a butterfly wing span the sky hangs on a thread as I paint the white picket fence red said
(K.J.Garside / C.Gray) There is an anger comes off this girl, That she can't find an origin, The things I plant won't grow, Yet the wild weeds flower
(C.Gray) You walk all over anyone who dares to be a friend, Scream and yell because you deem them unenlightened, High upon your horse you preach and
(Instrumental)
on my back i lay it down for plenty these bones to crack i'll scream til it's empty i learn how to dance with the dog she's clandestine i'll spit for
(K.J.Garside / C.Gray) Ten planes falling from the sky, The setting sun leaves no trace, My name was written in the sky, But now there is no trace.
(Traditional:arr K.J.Garside / C.Gray) Polly pretty Polly come go away with me, Polly pretty Polly come go away with me, Before we get married some pleasures
(And I sit here waiting and I comb my hair) Wait in line, your time will come Says the man, he waves his gun Carpet burns beneath my name Your finger
A black soot stain Struck across the sky The shadow crept up the wall and stayed Eclipse in her daddies eye She prepared for an occupation She climbed
Beneath the skin, A caustic red river, Beneath the skin, Corrosive abuser, Beneath the skin, Genetic in rupture, Beneath the skin All cold and hungered
make you a prayer a heavenly surrender To the one somewhere out there The one who can mend her I pray for the one who can open my door Let me go through
There is a finger missing on my right hand A butchers hand in a butterfly wing span The sky hangs on a thread as I paint the white picket fence red
Birdnest hair so slips the dream A paper boat in heavy seas Into thin air lost upon on the tidal stream Another year But I don't care Birdnest hair Her
Strip me down and bare my soul, Cut my heart out, Eat me whole, Taunt and bait me, invalidate me. Cold fish, In my little dish... Cast your hook and
The crows the crows Sitting on a fence Voices disappear behind a bank of clouds It's a dismal forecast Her torn up skirt a backdrop And drop she does
Take my doll put on her pretty clothes Now don't you soil her dress Brush her hair, paint her lips like a rose Cover up your mess Strip baby strip
i arch my back to touch the stars as they fall from my hand for tommorrow the sun will rise again a pearl a grain of sand i let the clothes slip from
I used to know this wretched girl I made her open for me I took her heart And I kissed it clean But she still kicks against me Are the songs my disease