Body For The Pile
(专辑: Visions Of Bodies Being Burned - 2020)
And it's stains in the
wainscotting Cracks in the
baseboard Arachnid in the
corner serving up face Like whose house you think this is? Prism vision in low light Scan prison tats on the
back of a
low life lifeless And a
broke nose might just be done dripping Wet all night It dries deep red on a
off white carpet And a
soft light arcs just above arm height All white Vans placed on the
floor Pack of Pall Mall lights Bites marks on a
half sandwich with no crust Mustard and mayonnaise Lettuce and red cold cuts Moonlight streams through window dust It floats up to the
ceiling fan that creaks from rust As it labors to go around Trying to catch that feeling And the
paint on his base is peeling And the
taste in the
air is faint but there Just enough that the
rats are nearing Cause where there's blood there's feast and famine Makes murder a
meal And the
cheap wall clock will stop at one shot So he knew it was time to kill Bust one shot if your blood still pumping Bust two shots if you're really 'bout something Three little pigs and they can't do nothing for the
last time You can't run you just a
body for the
pile, body for the
pile Body for the
pile, body for the
pile You just a
body for the
pile, body for the
pile And you should probably take your last breath right about now Office highly decorated Plastic frames around diplomas, all the
commendations Accommodating swivel chair where the
blue suited sir sits slumped Brains splattered, wall stained, grey matter runs Badge with his name makes blood on the
tongue 'Cause it's pinned to his right cheek Right where the
gun must have first flirted Before it was stuck in his mouth Officer *bleep* with his brains blown out Water pitcher with the
ice Two glasses one either side Of the
desk the
lipstick left on one appears to smile wide And the
slanted blinds are squinting just enough For the
sunrise to zebra stripe the
room with light He would have had to shield his eyes But they wide open no motion No, he never flinched Palms flat on the
table, didn't seem to move an inch Fish bowl on the
far side of the
room Where goldfish swims around Suspicious of the
gun that now sits in the
bowl with him Bust one shot if your blood still pumping Bust two shots if you're really 'bout something Three little pigs and they can't do nothing for the
last time You can't run you just a
body for the
pile, body for the
pile Body for the
pile, body for the
pile You just a
body for the
pile, body for the
pile And you should probably take your last breath right about now Red and blue light spinning On the
corner by the
new fried chicken spot Cop car hopped the
curb then absurdly hit the
hydrant Which wouldn't stop Spraying water that's dripping over the
face that's made its way through the
windshield And cutting bleeding the
people leaving the
scene and saying they never seen him Coming but he must have run the
light, he never rolled Hand is reaching for the
gun but couldn't get a
hold So, it's sitting limp up on the
dash And all the
flashing of the
cameras is lighting up the
noontime cold Overcast broken glass On the
concrete the
scent of gasoline Hovers over the
motor smoke And the
single broken bicycle spoke wheel still protruding The
medics moving the
little twisted body to bag it up Detective notices the
traffic camera then calls the
station to back it up And somewhere the
screams turn into sobs And the
sirens mix with the
howls of dogs And from the
water the
rolling fog Scented wet as the
breath of God They say in the
greyscale city Where the
skies are scraped And the
days are pretty much shaded You never know the
faithful, they walk and they pray And there's one less lung sucking air today so Bust one shot if your blood still pumping Bust two shots if you're really 'bout something Three little pigs and they can't do nothing for the
last time You can't run you just a
body for the
pile, body for the
pile Body for the
pile, body for the
pile You just a
body for the
pile, body for the
pile And you should probably take your last breath right about now