The cops blew my connection so I drove around all night, with the headlights coming at me like one thousand parasites.
My heart beats black & ugly like a devil in my chest
& his dirty blood is boiling in a state of soul unrest.
& the sky weighs down upon me & there's no way to relax, so I drive a little longer in this borrowed Cadillac
All those little sermons they still echo in my head
I read all the little warnings that were written out in red. Still I gravitate toward it like a man up on a cliff.
You can hang on to the railings but the chasm sucks you in
Stand up, shoot up... Throw away your life
Stand up, shoot up... Throw away your life
I wanna do it again I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again I wanna do it again
I don't even know if i can make it on my own
So I swoop on my connection like a vulture to the bone. Now lover give him money, Now lover give him sex. Now lover give him everything with my fingers 'round your neck
I wanna do it again I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again I wanna do it again
A true hidden treasure of a song writer. This gent has been capturing songs in demo form on old tape recorders since the 80s. . . and he's still capturing his magic sounds in his secret basement. Damien Youth