Text: Every Time I Die. No Son Of Mine.

we've drained full confession booths
polluted drinking wells with our repentances and then stood
grinning with our arms around shoulder of a rotting child.
hold that pose. provisional, arrogant little pigs who devour their siblings
shoot that dog if you can't afford to feed.
famine fathered a moth.
famine fathered a moth that begot our fathers.
keep your voices down I'm sneaking out.
hey! what's the big idea? keep your fucking hands off the insight
that rat has got it's mother's eyes. breeding ad nauseam, they are pouring themselves into the sea.
stop. thief.
leave your drunken accident at the prom. it'll grow to mend your broken heart.
don't sign the dotted line (every house is a little bit of Hollywood).
the world is too incredible to bring such ugliness into it
the artist is sneaking down the hall to impregnate the last of its kin.
indiscernible mute in a swarm of derivatives.
and I deny any part. I deny any part. a deadbeat godfather.
bite your tongue. who taught you those words?
blaspheme! when you are under my roof don't ever say "rock and roll".