A farewell song for tomorrow's festivities: "Cool as Hell" by Grand Buffet
Statues of age-old, stone-shed tears,
There's a myriad of reasons why,
None of which I need to hear.
What I'm listening for resonates at very low frequencies,
Only seismologists speak to me.
Recently, wheels that squeak have no sequel,
Refusing to roll like predictable people.
The nunnery is harnessing sexual frustration,
Converting it into fuel,
Powering the congregation
Tour bus for a time travel fantasy.
Six thousand years in the past to dismantle the
Ludicrous theories of secular scientists,
Backing their statements with useless appliances.
I apply knowledge from tabloid horoscopes.
Reminding me, all is not lost, there is hope.
Play the lottery, unplug the discord.
Flex your authority, carry a clipboard.
My life is fleeting; I shall soon befall the fate of mortals.
My only dying wish is to be greeted at the portal
Of all eternal hell by he whom I've put all my faith in.
I'll dedicate my afterlife to serve the mighty Satan.
Look at the bottom of that fir tree. A tell-tale sign,
Somebody was here. Wired it up, put it together in no time.
Who did the deed? Who tried to rid the woods of three dudes that cuss too much and do no good?
They trample vegetation with their ATV's,
So now they're fuckin' with the ghost of Johnny Appleseed.
And he's a charitable spirit, but not so Christ-like
He wouldn't take his tin-pot hat to their windpipes.
My life is fleeting; I shall soon befall the fate of mortals.
My only dying wish is to be greeted at the portal
Of all eternal hell by he whom I've put all my faith in.
I'll dedicate my afterlife to serve the mighty Satan.
{Thanks to MistressMissy for exposing me to this band. }
Statues of age-old, stone-shed tears,
There's a myriad of reasons why,
None of which I need to hear.
What I'm listening for resonates at very low frequencies,
Only seismologists speak to me.
Recently, wheels that squeak have no sequel,
Refusing to roll like predictable people.
The nunnery is harnessing sexual frustration,
Converting it into fuel,
Powering the congregation
Tour bus for a time travel fantasy.
Six thousand years in the past to dismantle the
Ludicrous theories of secular scientists,
Backing their statements with useless appliances.
I apply knowledge from tabloid horoscopes.
Reminding me, all is not lost, there is hope.
Play the lottery, unplug the discord.
Flex your authority, carry a clipboard.
My life is fleeting; I shall soon befall the fate of mortals.
My only dying wish is to be greeted at the portal
Of all eternal hell by he whom I've put all my faith in.
I'll dedicate my afterlife to serve the mighty Satan.
Look at the bottom of that fir tree. A tell-tale sign,
Somebody was here. Wired it up, put it together in no time.
Who did the deed? Who tried to rid the woods of three dudes that cuss too much and do no good?
They trample vegetation with their ATV's,
So now they're fuckin' with the ghost of Johnny Appleseed.
And he's a charitable spirit, but not so Christ-like
He wouldn't take his tin-pot hat to their windpipes.
My life is fleeting; I shall soon befall the fate of mortals.
My only dying wish is to be greeted at the portal
Of all eternal hell by he whom I've put all my faith in.
I'll dedicate my afterlife to serve the mighty Satan.
{Thanks to MistressMissy for exposing me to this band. }
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
doctashock:
this could very well be the last message I ever leave for you here.
evanx:
Still here......................