Sleep

(альбом: Love Letters From Hell - 2000)

My eyes, they swell like pregnant breasts
When the sun stirs me from my gentle rest
My skin, it smells like black sick meat

And when I wake it wears like wooly putty
To die a rotting smelly sack of silly flesh that looks like sickness
With yellow jackets pecking at my mumps disease
And from my mouth my tongue is hanging
Like a starving cord of nerves
ooooo ooooooo oooooo ooooooooooooo

I would be happy
Mired in bacterial death
Wheezing in the ejaculation like a lion after feasting
Yes, I would be happy
Oh, if only I could shoot the sun through the navel and pull its guts right through it
With an anger
Sleep hibernates the juices and the starches and the organs
While wild prostitutes
Gallop in the firepits
Of my head
Beating drums and shooting stars
Out of the mouths

My eyes, they swell like pregnant breasts
When the sun stirs me from my gentle rest
My skin, it smells like black sick meat
To die a rotting smelly sack of meat