AUTHOR & PUNISHER LYRICS

1. The Barge

Patch the line of sight I plea
it's open, the barge is lost at sea.
Profuse, corrupt, liquid disdain,
its eyes see colors below the flame.
Scratch the skin to peel and sweat,
the feathers and fur too real to forget.
Expulse, parole, morose the chagrin
to echo the path from where we begin.
The village is aft corroded by oil,
still lit and seeking a virgin soil.
Alive but tattered, saved by the dust,
hands still clenching, aged by rust.
The froth it multiplies as crystals decay,
smashed into powder that
darkens the day.
No peace, no faith,
incestuous and crushed,
we swelter and toil,
restrained and hushed.
No peace, no faith, incestuous and
crushed.

2. Cauterize

Terrorize, to feel.
Cauterize, to heal.
I'm not looking for madness.
I'm not looking for madness,
but it's found.
Sympathize, to feel.
Weeping eyes, to heal.
I'm not looking for madness.
I'm not looking for madness,
but it's found.
Teacher, there are things,
vicious things,
that I want to learn.
Some of my favorite things
are vicious things,
wouldn't you like to know?

3. Shame

Shame, fight.
Range, find.
Fume, spite.
Grace, light.
Plans run deadly askew,
slain birds captured in you,
crooked pine whispered
the legends been told over and over.
Sunken eyes fixed on the end,
better seek shelter or bend,
pleasure fiend feasts on your will
sensing destruction for thrill.
Habit struck.
Rapid cut.
Into shallow
darken hollow.
Soft fine sever,
faint pain pleasure,
making you bleed from the rings,
raking the scales from your wings.
Shame, fight.
Range, find.
Fume, spite.
Grace, light.
Shames gone soft,
shames got the better of you.
Shame comes ripping,
the last cinders of soft tissues still living.
Sunken eyes fixed on the end,
better seek shelter or bend,
pleasure fiend feasts on your will
sensing destruction for thrill.
Habit struck.
Rapid cut.
Into shallow
darken hollow.
Soft fine sever,
faint pain pleasure,
making you bleed from the rings,
raking the scales from your wings.

4. Future Man

We've got no future plan,
locked up by the needs of man.
We've got no future plan,
transparency marks our decline.
Too little much too late,
given how far we've fallen.
It's a miracle we've come this far,
given the load we're hauling.
I'm not a future man,
fed up by our demand.
I'm not a future man,
and I'm fading under constant light.
Too little much too late,
given how far we've fallen.
It's a miracle we've come this far,
given the load we're hauling.
We've got no future plan,
locked up by the needs of man.
We've got no future plan,
transparency marks our decline.
Too little much too late,
given how far we've fallen.
It's a miracle we've come this far,
given the load we're hauling.

5. Disparate

Strung out in the desert,
nowhere and no sound.
Best train on the planet,
cycle on rough.
Crashed plane is a respite
from political slough.
Strung out in the desert
Pulling teeth from a mountain,
a triumph of will.
Faces cut out of granite,
political swill.
Disparate, barren but fueled.
Disparate, getting high on the fumes.
Summers breeze
makes me feel, all of this is not real.
Disparate, barren but fueled.
Disparate, getting high on the fumes.
Disparate.

6. Callous and Hoof

I'm in the fog.
I'm in the fog, I'm in the silo.
I've been in the fog,
I've fell into sorrow.
From the fog to the meadow
the cliff and then black.
In the boil of the river,
hoof bleeds in the water.
Drink from the stream after the burden,
breed with the rustic herded.
I'm in the fog.
I'm in the fog, I'm in the silo.
I've been in the fog,
I've fell into sorrow.
From the fog to the meadow
the cliff and then black.
Rust, nail, callous and hood
weathered and strong,
weathered and strong.
But when the chaos rises
and when the chaos reigns,
the chaos rises,
the chaos is chaos.
May the chaos bloom,
may the chaos rise,
may the chaos reign,
when the chaos is chaos.
Load bearing, insecure,
cross-threaded,
begging for counterbore,
begging, begging...

7. Teething

Theater of the wicked,
theater of the ghost.
Theater of the marauder,
theater of the host.
Love, like love.
Straight like teeth like making love.
Love, like love.
The empire of the wicked,
the empire of the ghost.
The banquet of the marauder,
the banquet of the host.
Love, like love.
Straight like teeth
like making love.
Love, like love.
Crooked, beaten,
crooked, beaten.
Crooked, teething, crooked,
teething.

8. Void, Null, Alive

In tune, indecision.
Fear not, self omission.
For real, this condition.
Fetal, imposition.
Tonight, status vision.
Will not, self omission.
Quiet trepidation,
distraught, oversensing.
In tune, indecision.
Fear not, self omission.
For real, this condition.
Fetal, imposition.
In sight, still stuck in the way.
Dissolve into the fray.
In spite, still stuck in the way.
Put down, evolving away.
Tonight, status vision.
Will not, self omission.
Quiet trepidation,
distraught, oversensing.
In sight, still stuck in the way.
Dissolve into the fray.
In spite, still stuck in the way.
Put down, evolving away.
Void, null, alive.
Time pleads down on the brow,
palm trees bear it somehow.
Throat's dry whistle from a
flame, gnaw, thumb,
drifting once again.
Pressure beats down on the roof,
dead space thickens as we move.
Last stand founded on a mistake.
Void, null, alive, nor awake.
Void, null, alive.







AUTHOR & PUNISHER LYRICS