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Morning new disease, charcoal in bed |
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Bone soaked, anemic, listen in horror |
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To the scraping of flatware and china |
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And saran wrap to stifle libido |
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Air shaft, a chasm, their lives flung open |
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Sickness is a time for hating your neighbors |
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In their milk flats with five kids too many |
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Having day sex because they're all daughters |
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And you're thinking the same two things |
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Over and over again |
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I am dreaming of a life, I am dreaming of waking up |
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There's this anger rising cancer in me, standing like a wall |
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Between the waking world I seek and this infected plane of sleep |
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Love, come like an axe to all this ice and set me free |
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There's a black rewarding book beneath this stiff sheet if you look carefully |
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Noise, police, white hearse, TV air wave methadone |
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Diet, contact, safe sex, antibiotic |
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For your safety we've taken sharp objects |
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It's their object to keep you from waking |
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Taste test serenade, we dig the grave |
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Lose weight astrologically, no money down |
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For your enjoyment we've excised the dialog |
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For your protection we've installed this camera |
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Just keep thinking the same clean thoughts |
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And keep telling yourself it's alright |
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I am dreaming of a life and it's not the life that's mine |
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In a stolen car I rocket west out past that Jersey line |
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And the robots in their riot gear glimmer in my rear view mirror |
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Love came like an axe and had her way with this coarse earth |
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And a rich deserving book, she was recovered and understood and I awoke |
