Talking To God (On a Microphone Made Of Steel)

Black paint is peeling from the inside of a face

Worn as a mask to cover the naked mind

It's all lies and subterfuge, smoke and mirrors

Life for sale, 1 owner, badly soiled and stained

Fuck it up the arse, I don't want it

Take it back I'm done with it

How damn wrong can your whole goddamn life be?

You call it gift but I call it dirt

You hear me, God? Go fuck yourself

You might be God but it don't mean shit to me

The last remnants of a dream

That's been bound and gagged then fucking died

Lose your head and it can really blow your mind

Locust plague haemorrhage, hands of blood and piss

I'll be motherfucker, king in the latrine

So place your bets, I'll take your bets

No time for tears and no regrets

Just hate yourself for what you don't have the balls to be

When it's all unravelling

So dionysian, ecstatic

Talking to God with a microphone made of steel

No regrets, no regrets

Naked and bleeding but no regrets

Live now only for the day when you can sleep forever

No more giving your love away like so much cheap wine

The air screams, no tears

The air bleeds, no tears

And no coming back

Part of the deal, you knew the possibilities

Aware, of sound mind and fucked

You wanted all this porcelain

You always knew it could be cracked

And now it's finally smashed

It's finally broken beyond repair

Spilt milk runs red one tick to hell please

Haha!