In the Event of my Demise

Time was when I had no address
Time was when I put no stress
On the world – the cord of existence
Time was when I was nameless

Wash the gallows- time to hang him high
With no audience there’s time to fly
Play with planets falling from the sky
Play with prayings long since rised

Grenade, just one of those games I play
I made more space for the claiming clay
Watch hands tear out in a slaving way
They’ll stay long as I make them graves

Carry clouds up on my shovel
Kick up the pitch through a leather muzzle
Unstrap the back and swagger, shout
Let these transients know just what I’m talking about

It’s a call to arms to crawling worn
It’s a walking tall to call the storm
It’s a wailing wall to stall the worm
It’s an opened jaw to swallow horns

Rumours of my death have been greatly underestimated.

No vision, its lonely at the bottom of the world
I found a new religion in bringing you down
It’s all kinds of box when you’re naked with a girl
I found a new mission in hearing her sounds

Curled in my drawer is a dictionary of the universe
I wrote it, I drew it with a pen and spit
I climbed the hill and held it to the Acropolis
Broke, folded-crumbled, exhaled before it

I remember, I remember these walls like my birth
I remember turning my back on all of it, what’s worse
I remember, I remember holding it off the balcony
I remember, can’t forget the diction of the hearse.

The children of the night sound just like bells
The road, the sight of it smells just like hell
They’re dangling from their necks by the side of the road
It’s night; Twelve O’clock and all is well

Ask yourself what you want from me
Then ask if I’ve got what I want from you
Stroke me faster, no, I’m not asking you to
It’s a threat, can’t imagine what I’ll do

I think of you like calligraphy
My rise from the walls was a mystery
His missus, my blister- its symmetry
Slaves sniffing my tumbling imagery

How’s the stage look now, you seeing this
How swagger’s my cocky, where’s the weakness
No, there’s no poetry, this is strictly business
I get what I want. I pick up pieces.
I get what I want, I trace the creases
I get what I want, I rip on Jesus
I get what I want, come on anti-thesis