Polterzeitgeist

Why you goin around, trying to keep people outta hell?

I'm goin around, trying to keep the hell outta people.

Your evil sends chills through my bones

And it flows through the back roads of arteries.

Genetic memory fights technology

Administered by moral midgets

Theres picket signs in my eyes when they strike

You'll wanna talk business.

Note to self; go for self, go for broke

No one else ever showed you the ropes or helped

And what are they supposed to do?

Of course they gotta rebuild every wall that you broke on through.

Drugs wont get my thoughts running, I need them to make thoughts stop coming

Last night I had dream I shot someone

When I awoke my hands were full of the fluid my hearts pumping

I went to get it tested, the doctor was not so interested in analyzing the message

He had a pill, that if he issues out

He gets paid on the side, Got a lifetime supply.

Maybe hes the ghost, and maybe I'm the host

The polterzietgeist who knows the right price

To pay the priest to release me from these ropes

and

Maybe I'm the ghost, and maybe hes the host

The polterzietgeist who knows the right price

To pay the priest to release me from these ropes

Fell into a Venus fly trap with a nicotine eye-patch

Pirate of the ship sipping Listerine night caps.

disguised her voice with the breath of a clean slate

awake every morning to the death of my dream date.

selling sex to cheapskates with rusty blades

fuck to forget and call it layaway

Got an addiction to thin ice

the whisper of wind pipes

I'm mister insight, the social costume's skin tight

nah, I don't believe in you

and you don't believe that I'm leaving you.

as you shrink away to nothing in my rear view

to close to call, to far to be hearing you

singing my melody I heard it subconsciously

you spoke in your sleep, and it sounded like honesty

When you awoke you said "it was not for me"

I said "oh, I know obviously"

You're not my yo-yo so I cropped the photo

and I rocked this solo now you gots to go

Maybe you're a ghost, and I'm the conduit

the kinda thread in every superficial compliment

the loose string in your moral fabric

holding your logic, hopelessly romantic

and (going??) psychic

Leaving notes for the next to come

written in blood from the wound that they'll exit from

I don't compose rows or sonnets I just write like my life depends on it

Front like I'm agnostic, but I don't believe in you

You got a transparent nature that I'm seeing through

somebody spiked the punch that you beat me to

sometimes I'm not even sure its even you.