Pilars Of Tomorrow, Piles Of Yesterday

Wheelchair drawn chariot
Marking time near the sun
Earthworms laughter
Under wood I carve fingers on..

Kicking back with the shakes
Face down in the snow
Insane from drinking
Wash my hands off you

Like a whore in a candy store
Touch whatever's within reach
Six times more filling than you rmouth of rotten teeth
Find myself cheering for your abuse
Like I'm ringside behind close doors
With a press hat and cigarette
Boys run from the cockeyed girl

Held down by your dreams
Delusions of self sufficiency
I've seen what's wrong with you
You're a fuckin' junkie with a record for christsakes
Nobody wants a crackwhore dipping her cock soaked hand in the till
Thought nobody would notice, didn't you?
Well I fucking did..