We've been breathing so long we can't hear our lungs
Coughing up excess like it was our blood
Maybe defacing
Our art, wouldn't make it dishonest
Piss-drunk like your author, channeling from
Statues of prophets and profit-filled men
"If everyone's famous,
Then what do I look up to?"
No,
I don't need to make it myself
There's plenty of fake real-
ness to latch on to
I'll build a perfect home
Out of my hotel room
We've berated the mirror with violent praise
Every conceivable nothing to say
Entertaining
The idiots with high art
The more I eat, the more I need to starve to live
The more I realize ego death don't exist
And all realizations
I've had when I was fucked up
Were false
Comfort
I feel it all the time
Even though I
Know there is
More reason to feel scared
I can't jump down from the high chair
I felt alive
Tied down
Hands over my eyes
Waiting for someone to notice
Wait...
Look at me, I'm changed!
Look at me, I'm...
All the way back down
Look at me, walking among you now
Things are changing, but I never will
Put the babes on hold, and let pops refill
Grinning wide, as I stand still
As you burn my footprint
I'll get a new body
In the mangled wire
Making fire
Hell fire
A hell fire's shell
credits
from Better Than Death,
released July 15, 2016
Harry Gilboa - Vocals and Lyrics
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