Punch-Drunk Punk Rock Romance
Pressed the seven sequenced silver panic buttons,
The distress calls that fall on a distracted short-wave signal.
A metronome timed to my panic stricken breathing and a pulse conducted by our dying lines.
You said my heart sounded like a payphone in the rain. distorted, distant, scrambled and desperate.
I swear to god tonight I am sober it's the reception between us that's failing.
Everything's coming out all frenzied and confused she's got what it takes to make collapsing a habit
And a dance out of a tantrum fit it's tragic but I am sobering up
Pick up the phone tonight I feel like the hero of a rusting war.
My touch has the timing and precision of a car wreck no use translating the trembles.
They're symptoms of repetitive testing for fluctuation.
If I come back home, I am bringing back the bends so give me a kiss. let me taste the reptilian appeal.
Say it again does it turn you on does it get you hot I get a little hysterical sometimes.
The panic you shouldn't have been so sentimental all that kicking and screaming.
Everything I touch starts peeling we malfunction like machines.
Get up off the floor and answer the phone I want to be a big star.
Didn't want to touch so hard open the door.
I am your deviant satellite, an orbit defected by the ballast of words.
You're the reason for collisions I am face down like a sailor washed up under your window.
Tonight is a shipwreck navigating through disorder.
Now every electric star hums like a telecaster.
How punk rock is that you're so oblivious you're my oblivion
Romeo A Go-Go
Tonight I'm coming home in a coma if it fucking kills me.
Listless but relieved, beaming like a newborn hostage.
Orphaned by an ambulance. I got this new black eye just for you.
Your hopeless romantic now helplessly rheumatic.
Poets grinding teeth to powder. All my vowels are getting lost in the gauze.
Misinterpret courting for the cursing of a drooling fool.
Here's to cheap sex and codeine in a hospital bed. And maybe I'd object, if I felt at all alive.
Everybody's dying to lay down with you. I got the order all wrong.
I must have bumped my head. Maybe I should quiet down.
Don't bet on another blackout. I'll be alright. There's an army at my window waiting to lose this fight.
I'm the king of this all night clinic. The fucking champion.
Tonight we'll feast like royalty in traction; happy and meticulous.
There's a delicate love song in this; kicked out and dripping in verse.
Go get your gun because God won't show. He sent a poet instead.
The Don Quixote of the ICU. Quite impressive for a cripple. Munchausen by proxy of a muse.
Tempt not a desperate man. This split lip is for you. I traded it for an outdated tooth.
Kill The Music
Stutter step to the beat of a disparaged lover dumb and pulsing we've become.
The bedroom door is an old black lung it's arrhythmic uninviting and pliable.
With the noble irreverence of shrapnel she came for us bore into our heads and found thoughtlessness.
Never minded the faithless courage of shame or the bravery of oblivion.
I'm on her mind, I'm never coming back if two timing is what it takes then we both know
One take is all we need we're not equipped to stay, unloved,
But it's all we've got and we're not at all alright.
Come on and give me the creeps
Give me the creeps give me the creeps
Either you and I or both must go.
Either you and I or both must go.
I'm on her mind I'm never coming back.
If two timing is what it takes then we both know one take is all we need
We're not equipped to stay, unloved but it's all we've got and we're not at all alright.
There is no difference between being holy and alone that's why I'm eagerly fleeing the scene.
Lead footed return the favor and leave somebody you love.
If they come back they're drunk and they're lonely we all get lonely.
God forbid we indulge when at sea just the tempest, the temptress and me.
Naturally bored thriller nobody knows the trouble I've been or the exacting improvement of sin.
I'm handing myself over I’m turning myself in war has no glory like a woman ignored.
So here's to the empires polluted with dead and the truckers wives who erected them.
I know the strippers real name stop me if I'm wrong
The New Black
You got me all wrong and maybe I’m not at all down and out I’m high and I’m in.
Don’t you know who I am I’m the jaded one with pop insensitivity when I finish struggling,
We can make our way to the dance floor and stand like strangers in an elevator
Stuck between stories I always find myself in the middle of your stories.
With the cameras as a witness I will suffer everything I do is wrong but by god I do it right.
We don’t dance we got class no we don’t have any fun at all it’s the new style and we know it.
We’re not stunning, we’re just stunned and we’re lying for a living.
Don’t you know who I am I’m the real thing with low-key sensibilities.
I don’t need what I’ve got half as much as everyone covets it.
If loving me is wrong, then god damn you do it right, it turns us on to turn you down.
Imitation Is The Sincerest Form Of Battery
Don't try to resist, you're coming with us provisions are made, accommodations are met.
Your words are recorded in the bleak genetics of the mob.
Praise apocrypha-omitted offense to relieve us of guilt but not of our sin
We've sacrificed discourse at the feet of your clever turn-of-phrase.
Now you owe it to us, we demand to be taken aback to be showed the revival of hope,
For which your words are responsible.
It's the end of the line I'm cornered by a precedent
The sneering public eye my job here is done my job here is done
You're fucking welcome retract the accolade, the candid acclaim inspiration is cutting its loss
Regurgitate headlines or a theory on modern art you've been fooled again, the red herring's a joke.
I've tried so hard to tell you that I tapped the well dry but there's no word stay wistful and young
The affected are banking on oblivion in the drone of embittered hope and we're sold
By the way they wrote it.
It's the end of the line I'm cornered by a precedent
The sneering public eye my job here is done my job here is done
It is better to destroy than to create what is meaningless so the picture will not be finished
Roman Holiday
We cut our teeth in the bedroom we slit our wrists in our costumes.
All of them, witches, witches, witches, witches!
We are the death of the party we are the life of the funeral.
All of us, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen!
I want the ripened fruit I want the fresh meat.
I want the first born I want the down beat.
We traded vows on the front line they ushered us through the stop sign.
All of them witches, witches, witches, witches!
We found our way in the blackout we are the ghosts in the lighthouse.
All of us, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen, ragmen!
I want the open wound I want the dark street.
I want the virgin blood I want that wet heat
Revival Mode
Thanks Lord, but I don't need anymore poor advice, poor advice.
I caught in the cannon with a one way ticket four riders in a town with one horse.
I wagered a sure thing against what was behind the first door.
Stack the chips, ready to ride out of sight, out of mind.
It's foolproof and it won't do to make safe bets while I'm towing the line.
Thanks Lord, but I don't need anymore poor advice, poor advice.
Thanks Lord, but I don't need anymore poor advice, poor advice.
I had a lock on a dirty little secret a raging bull who was fixed to fall down.
I've been waiting at ringside my whole life but still swinging on.
I got debts piling high I got addictions and ex-wives
But I've stayed true, so I thank you for bearing witness while I waste my fucking life.
I'm ready to pay the judge, to pay the judge, to pay the judge now
I need to tip the scales, some sort of bribery, I'm not waiting this out.
I need to pay the judge, to pay the judge, to pay the judge now
I need to grease a palm, some sort of certainty, I'm sick of waiting this out.
I should have learned a more noble craft out of the library into the lab.
And will machine gunners please step forth will machine gunners please step forth?
There's only room on the rescue boat for butchers and bakers and men with hope.
And will machine gunners please step forth will machine gunners please step forth.
Thanks Lord, but I don't need anymore poor advice, poor advice.
Thanks Lord, but I don't need anymore poor advice, poor advice.
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