Skinless

In a bubble

Naked muscle

Dripping grease

And I scream

In the bubble

Looking over hell

With whips and chains

Good old Sheol

And the raven pecks at my eyes

Good old bird

Sweet little blackbird

Made me fall out the window

To splatter on the ground

In dream

But is this a dream

Lying on a stretcher with my liver

On my chest

Then slow roasted and sold at a fast food restaurant

To a bastard in limousine

Who chews at my skin

And puts a napkin over my spleen

And gags me when I scream

With a bloody Time magazine

And this faithful Stigmata

For a God I don't think I like

But I can't speak

From the bloody newsprint forced down my

Throat

And me and my Stigmata

We are just a scapegoat

And the commercial industry

Picks our bones

Me and my Stigmata

Bloody on a billboard

With holes in my hand

And no skin

And the same time magazine

In my mouth

December's issue

And you look at that painting in your house

And chuckle at my pain

Of me and my Stigmata

So enjoy

Enjoy

Enjoy my flesh

Just like you do Jesus' every Sunday

The holy food

That makes the service worth it

But if I am so holy

Then why am I in hell

With Death ringing his damn bell

And me and my Stigmata

Skinless, with holes in my hands, and a slash in my side

That bleeds wine

That the local practitioners get drunk off of

Leaking out the bubble

Missing my spleen

That is in the back of some asshole's limousine

With some ointment

From the Lord of the Forest

That I should rub on my skin

And become a wolf

But I don't have my skin

I sold it to my best friend

Who hung it from her wall

To keep leafs out in the fall

Then she slapped me in the face

Putting my Stigmata back in place

And little hole in my heart

With a black worm that lives there

Who chews at my ear

With his brothers who live in the holes in my

Wrist

And my momma always said

That I could do better than this

But I am stuck in a bubble

And in the courtyard

With good little black bird pecking my eyes

And in the back of some limousine

And in my last friends wall

Catching leafs in the fall

With a Time magazine

Breaking my jaw

And the worms in my wrist

And the hole in my heart

And all that's left is my Stigmata

But that was there from the start.