Humour has taken you to that place below

Hallowed ground to mortel flesh

Hallow'd ground to summon

The devil in me, the devil in me

I ranted and raved at your graveside

where she lies with you asleep

Two giants, crumbling at my feet

Left me gifts of a troublesome nature

The joke is on me,

the joke is on me

The joke is on me,

the joke is on me

The joke is on me

the joke is on me

 

Oh infant child asleep in me

I could have patience for a while

I can forget while you heal

I can forget while you heal

Oh infant child asleep in me

I could have patience for a while

I can forget while you heal

I can forget while you heal

 

Something or Jesus Has taken you to that other place

7 angels to hold and carry

7 bearers of death and disease

I can scream as long as I can

You can no longer answer me

I can see where Your wings burst, unfolded

Bringing forth rotting decay

Heal the worn meat

Trim the carrion bone
Lighter for travel,

Better for display

Better for display,

better for display

Better for display,

better for display

 

Oh infant child asleep in me

I could have patience for a while

I can forget while you heal

I can forget while you heal

Oh infant child asleep in me

I could have patience for a while

I can forget while you heal

I can forget while you heal

 

Echos of debts

Let me skim the border

Oh to feel heaven's scale

Your long tradition shall die with me

Inside a scream, outside keep the peace

She, truth, nameless at evenings

Selling her skin, she remains

Oh infant child asleep in me

I could have patience for a while

I can forget while you heal

I can forget while you heal

Oh infant child asleep in me

I could have patience for a while

I can forget while you heal

I can forget while you heal

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Ni Chonghaile B. / Tapie S.

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 performed by Good Bad and Young

 All rights reserved. 

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FUCK THE PATTERN

 

see the pavements

you see the signs

all you need to heed. If that is all you want

or ache your soul to read, oh sweet Jesus.

You sow your own seeds.

 

                           Chorus
 No one told me what to see it's my  voice it's the way I feel.

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 Dangle on from day to day.

Useless thread. Unravels time.

Think about the shit you'd say.

When the milk turns sour.

Get out quick chimes the fateful hour.
Your walls were never made for me

it's my  voice it's the way I feel 

 

Reap and sow, screw and moan

do whatever you feel

meet me at the old dirt road at dawn

when the others are sound asleep.
Throw the dice pray for a six.

and close your eyes and wish

meet me at the old dirt road

Your effort you will reap.

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