February 28, 2009

Murder Your Mythologies (Survivor Parasite) (lyric)

I sat down in a tavern
by a horny unicorn.
He said, "Did you know, every minute,
there's another virgin born?"
Then he winked and wandered off,
but someone must have lied,
'cause that night he caught the virus
and, shortly after, died.

Once I saw a siren
near a record studio.
She said she had VIPs to see,
lots of high places to go.
She wore Manolos on her feet,
had lots of cash to spend.
Three months later, she OD'd
in the bathroom of the Bitter End.

Well, I've been reading the future,
just like the old ones taught me,
reading the entrails
of this phoenix I caught.
Found him in with the chickens,
probably up to no good.
Let's see him rise now
from this fire made of wood.

You see, that's what happens to the legends
Their blazing glory shames our humble light
But death is always lurking at the edges
And survival's too prosaic for their like

(And we who toil below with pen and chisel,
We wide-eyed, giftless, ordinary ones,
Our names may be forgotten - but our drivel,
Our cloying, lovestruck elegies live on.)

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