Solstice

Solstice

When there's singing, loud and bright,

In a major key,

You're alive;

The weather's light;

We're sipping by the sea.

When I'm hooked on a buzzing,

Drunken symphony,

You're alive

And this warm night

We're all here

And happy.

Your skin is paper for the wind,

Your papers have been kept.

Your ash spelled out a final word,

And all your friends have wept.

We listened to the watchers pace,

We heard their dull steps fall.

Once more, they lit your blackened oil,

As it spluttered in its bowl.

Again, until the lamp had died,

And we blinked within the gloom;

Until the draining of the tide,

And the setting of the moon.

How this year was made so wide,

By the season of your doom.

Now faint, the solstice sun aligns

With the doorway of your tomb.

I Get Erased

I wrote this song blind drunk, while my now-ex-girlfriend was fucking a better guitarist.

 When you're strangled with guilt,

do you put it on your tongue and let it melt?
I know some folks like their pills at night,

but what I like to do is drink Jäger in pints!

I get erased, erased, but the memories stay,

like bones drying out when the flesh has decayed.

Destroyed, destroyed; my personality switch,

that's somebody else lying there in the ditch.

When you feel like you want to die,

do you ever consider getting really, really, fucking high?
Or does the thought fill you with tears?

Well, hold me please sweetie, I've been doing that for years.

 I get erased, erased, but the memories stay,

like bones drying out when the flesh has decayed.

Destroyed, destroyed; forever more I will burn.

Yet I yearn for your turning like the spin of the world.

Wetware

I wrote this for a friend a long while ago!

[CHORUS:]
I'm gonna short circuit, my wires crossed,
I've been disconnected, my memories have been lost.
Don't wanna wait for Masamune's solid state shell.
Just pass me that fucking scalpel, I'll do it all by myself.

Society is a charade,
it's our parade of the laws we've made
and the souls we've saved.

I augment my cranium so I can feel.
I got neodymiums and modules of steel.
Though my flesh may be torn, or my senses depressed,
I'm implanted babylon!

[CHORUS]

My world became a maze of metal plates
and logic gates and opiates.

I insert an armature of silicon di,
so I can know my temperature when I'm high.
I despise the sanctified, faith and pride.
You're beings of meat, brains, bone and hide.

[CHORUS]

Flattery

This is a song I wrote a while ago.  Should be recording it soon with my band.  Hooray!  It's malicious because it is written about several people, blurred together to hide their identities.

I don't want to seduce you
I want to play in your band.
One moment of intense emotion,
I literally fucked up the chance.

Her tattoo is a gift,
I am flattered by it.
Inked on some maddened night.
Our relationship is
meaningless and shit,
wrecked by being fucked all the time.

There is art beneath her skin
I think I'm inside.
Now you won't be friends or kiss
You just want fucked in the mind.

I am a cliché:
I realised I'm gay;
I'm tortured and tall and stuff.
Please distract me,
as much pain as you please.
Please could you destroy my trust?

I like someone warped.
Getting kicks from licking a corpse.
You lovely people
are so happy yeah
You are so beautiful
You aren't my type
You are so lovely
You tasted so good that night

The Ballad of D. Crombie

This is a tribute to a friend of mine who writes songs and does everything real quick.

If you go out into the scene
you'll meet a man called D. Crombie.
It's inevitable see, 'cus his strange addiction
means he must play shows, or he lies there twitchin'.
He'll gig your house,
he'll gig your kitchen,
supporting cover bands who think they're bitchin'.
I'd say he's good, but he won't care if he sounds shite:
all that really matters is he plays again tonight.