The Falcon - Huffing The Proverbial Line Off The Proverbial Dong -Or- Blood & The Frog

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You can't dig what you don't understand, boy

Sometimes it's the only way

Well, the misery's so fucking exciting

Well, the fashion of it all's the fucking rage.

These are hammers on strings making notes, babe

With blood and the frog in my throat

These are binders covered in bad poetry

Now knowing what it's really all about.



Oh where, oh where, oh where...

Did you get that stupid shit-eating grin that you wear?

And what, or who got you through the door?

You're a piece of meat on the killing floor.



These are closed and velvet ropes

And a curtain-sipping cokes

To be certain, it's so slow

That it's hurting, don't you know? 



Take your chances in the killing fields

With all the snakes and dogs

And dance 'til you bleed and bone touches steel

And all your hope is gone.











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