Less Skeleton Than Soul

Less Skeleton Than Soul

Living so slowly

It's hard to accept peace in your life

Like a pool collecting

Where once was a torrent of strife

You'll fit through the keyhole

Now you're less skeleton than soul

And what you see in that chamber

Looks so dead and old

Dying is easy

All you need is the money for beer

Your disappearance

Will let your conscience walk away clear

You'll fit through the keyhole

Now you're less skeleton than soul

And what you see in that chamber

Looks so dead and old

But I'm still drinking

I'm still drinking
I'm still drinking

I'm still drinking

Ending Age

Ending Age

The chances that I had are gone

The sheep are sheared

The hair's bleached blonde

And what have I left to do

But mould a moody shade of blue

A culture teaming with the spawn

The planning application's drawn

And what have I left to wish

That we shoal peacefully as fish

The boat has docked

The hold unloads

If I could write a pretty ode

I would join this ending age

And close the old book's final page

We Ordered Weed From Canada

We Ordered Weed From Canada

Before the cryptohackers came

And made the deal secure

When we were only teenagers

We were really poor

We were poor but only needed

One thing to get by

When the days were glistening

We wanted to get high

It's easy to get sick of local

Dealers selling hashish

Even when you get you still want

To escape their leash

It took some time to save the cash

I was still at college

So many weeks of smokeless nights

Were blurred edge to edge

Finally we had the cash

To place upon the net

It felt like we had struck a chord

In our glorious duet

We ordered weed from Canada

Some cheese and skunk and haze

And presently by mail it came

In those glistening days

You Can't Pay Me Enough To Care

You Can't Pay Me Enough To Care

I'd love to quit and leave my old desk bare

To vacate like I owe you nothing more

I know you can't pay me enough to care

Each morning I sink lower in my chair

And accept the receding sight of shore

I'd love to quit and leave my old desk bare

The neural trap of the working day snare

That starts with twitches and works to my core

So bad you can't pay me enough to care

I used to think that I had something rare

But it's been squeezed till it became a sore

I'd love to quit and leave my old desk bare

The hours are taken and there's none spare

How can a thing be both whirlwind and bore?

It blows but you can't pay me enough to care

The sun presses against the screen its glare

While we're crushed by the never ending roar

I'd love to quit and leave my old desk bare

Because you can't pay me enough to care

My Will To Power Is Dead

My Will To Power Is Dead

The dwarf of gravity's in a thong

The townsfolk left to smoke a bong

That science wasn't gay enough for me

Ultra modern kids unable

To look beyond blood and fable

That is why I am so stupid, see?

My will to power has long past

I'm trapped here in the house of ash

Where everything's as brittle as dried clay

My will to power is long dead

I share this tomb with the godhead

Where life is dust and crumbling decay

Psychology will be the future

Lanzek pills will knit the suture

Prophet's taking classes for his hate

The builders of the house of ash

Were all erased by nuclear flash

The bridge that we once trod is desolate

My will to power has long past

I'm trapped here in the house of ash

Where everything's as brittle as dried clay

My will to power is long dead

I share this tomb with the godhead

Where life is dust and crumbling decay