| "More" | |
| I need more streets to keep on walking, I need more drugs to keep me high, I need more words to keep on talking, I need more truth to tell a lie. I need more bullshit and pretences To keep myself in constant fear. My cloud is mine, will take no chances, I need more bullets to keep it clear. Remaining nights will need more starlight, Remaining days will need more dreams, The stuff I drink will need more bite, yeah, Obsession with no interims. I need one note to make song snappy, One sign to show you peace and love. I need two fingers to make you happy, But only one to tell you off. I need to take just one religion To show you that there is no god. You only need one frightened pigeon To spoil your morning promenade. No grave will ever be long empty, No stomach ever is too full, The voice that sings is never chanting, The mind that's hot is never cool. Sometimes you turn pain into pleasure, As softest heart turns into stone. And multitudes are not a measure, Among the crowds you are alone. Sound can be heard through bones' vibration. Sometimes you choose without a choice, Hope's just a mental masturbation And honest scream won't break your voice. You're tantalized by rancid preachers Whose pockets bigger than their souls, Then all your life you hunt for witches, You missed some loving after all. To hell with certainty and function, Compassion's only good with cause, Redemption's mother of consumption, Somebody's gain is not your loss. Now you want more than you can swallow, You cannot take all to your grave. To lead is harder than to follow, What you can't have is what you crave. You need no work, you need more money, There're lots of wicked things to thrive, And I don't know what's so damn funny About your mail-order life. | |