This Jet-Lagged Night Lyrics

Rain shower

Rain hour

Rain shower

Rain hour


Disco fall

Dropping bomb

Disco fall

Dropping bomb


Rain shower

Rain hour

Rain shower

Rain hour


Disco fall

Dropping bomb

Disco fall

Dropping bomb


In this feathered bed of nails, you will find mud that walks like snails in the waking of your veil where all your halos will run stale...

And In the mist of blackened shores, you'll hear the scraping of their doors where all the voices will run sore on your contorting dirty floor...

And in nasal symphonies, you'll hear them crooning through the trees like a ravenous disease, oscillating in the breeze...

And inside my crematory, you'll relax in all the glory where all the walls will say, "I am purgatory..."


Don't

You

Trip

On

Your punch in time clock...


Let

Me

Kiss

Away all of your padlocks...


Rain shower

Rain hour

Rain shower

Rain hour


Disco fall

Dropping bomb

Disco fall

Dropping bomb


Rain shower

Rain hour

Rain shower

Rain hour


Disco fall

Dropping bomb

Disco fall

Dropping bomb


Satan's freezing all my veins, with all these gashes running manes, and all my blood is running plain in the valley of mundane...

And in the silhouette of rumors, you'll hear me scraping at your tumors, wishing the flowers will come sooner on the ghosts of your consumer...

Let me sing this obituary, in this rotting sanctuary, on the gates of fiduciary at the sight of your contrary...

I'm crying at the paint, so should I fill in all the blanks so that the lepers won't complain about this pedestal of age?


On

This

Beach

Of utopia kiss...


The

Glass

Smiles

As the water drips...


Rain shower

Rain hour

Rain shower

Rain hour


Disco fall

Dropping bomb

Disco fall

Dropping bomb


Rain shower

Rain hour

Rain shower

Rain hour


Sun flower

Crying louder

Sun flower

Dying coward


In the crying talons of metal...

In the crying talons of metal...

In the crying talons of metal...


Sleeps the radio...


In the gold of wooden pores...

In the gold of wooden pores...

In the gold of wooden pores...


Is your way back home...


Convulse out from my snake latrine...

And breathe out all the dark disease...

On all the shores of lobotomy...

To the fields of graveyard machinery...


Ya la ta ta ta ta ta ta

Ya la ta ta ta ta ta ta

Ya la ta ta ta ta ta ta

Ya la ta ta ta ta ta ta


Running in place

Running in place

Run in place

Car chase in the haze, tripping on the shark bait


Running in place

Running in place

Run in place

Fight or flight in a maze, waiting for the air-raid


Running in place

Running in place

Run in place

Car chase in the haze, tripping on the shark bait


Running in place

Running in place

Run in place

Valley dirt cat mace, choking on inertia blades


On my trampoline of knees...

Is the weight of dying leaves...

In the starch of the carrion breeze...

Fahrenheit wind...


The clouds shall sprout wings...

For the jury that the eagle brings...

Cargo God...

Save me now...


You'll never take me alive, gatekeeper