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lyrics

Hazy days, shady lanes, slight gains, major pains
major pains, migraines, name of the game, you pay to play
Sail away, take a night train, a flight on a plane
watch life change, yet remain quite the same, it's kinda strange
what can I say except what I'm saying, and what I'm saying is why am I saying this
why am I saying anything
far be it from me to think thoughts through thoroughly
Ronald Reagan and Rosemary's ADD baby
watched Pogo the Clown till I found out he was John Wayne Gacy
loved John Wayne till I found out John Wayne hated me
guess you thought after that I'd have gone insane, crazy
but instead I got taste for complicated ladies
and it's all related, says the therapist, sent in to help her deal with the rapist
and the rapist is any man cuz we're all dangerous
it could have been a reverend, it could have been a relative
well, everything's relative
just avoid relationships, stay celibate, take these sedatives to forget what a mess this is
she walked in looking down but walked out looking up
the hell with it, I'm interested in an expert's consensus
so I step in, and attempt to craft my conflicting messages into something resembling relevant sentences
I say "Nothing is definite, the uncertainty's deafening, life's a projector with no projectionist, left to spin"
she sighes and replies "It's all about perspective. You're delicate, sensitive, why are you such a pessimist?
You're so negative" I say "hell yeah I'm negative, I'm HIV negative and still scared as shit
So what do you think? Maybe passive-aggressive or just manic-depressive or just anal retentive?"
she said "You got some personal issues to make amends with. This is added incentive"
and I said "aahhh forget it."

I smell something rotten in the bottom of the garden
something sodden, something downtrodden, lost and forgotten
and nobody's acknowledging just how bad it's gotten
we just keep a lid on it till the cogs in our brains start popping
something in the air spreading like pollen
I inhale the oxygen intoxicant and start coughing like...

hard times bring out the dark side
part silence, part "why"s that spark fires in my...
hot flashes, time stops, crashs, into fragments
of anger and anguish, realizing we don't understand shit about a damn thing on this planet
we just adlib, frantic, try our best not to panic, and when it's all over then we assess the damage
and it's nothing else than a classic reaction to rejection
a period spent acting as if we're not affected followed by a hollow kind of feeling like a bottle minus liquid
and mine was filled with spirits but now there's nothing in it
and what's the fucking difference, the world'll keep on spinning
(here we go) another scenario in this deadly merry-go-round to which we're indefinitely bound
we carry every petty doubt and memory around in this fleshy old crown from belly to burial ground
rendered in stereo sound, but can't we put some where they can never be found
cuz frankly they're getting me down
heavy and empty and running out of energy so gently but steadily the gauge on my left drifts from F to E
ecstacy, dependency, what a tangled, mangled web we weave.

credits

from SKELETONS, released March 16, 2005
produced by Nocturnal Ron

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