For a faithful departed...

At the same time,
You took yourself away,
You took away my mind,
As well.

Masn, it don't seem fair,
To leave me here hangin' out to dry,
And scared,
Of all the things that are,
And all the things that'll never come to be,
You put me on a paperboat under a storm,
And left me lost out at sea.

Now the only light in my life,
Comes from the fire that lights,
My cigarette.
And the only thought that gets me along,
Is that no too soon nor too long,
From today, I'll see you again, when I myself am dead,
But until then I'll sing out this, the saddest of songs for you,
A faithful departed.

But for now it seems,
I'll have to settle for,
Seeing you only in my dreams,
But wot am I to do,
In the daytime when the sun shines bright,
And my eyes find no rest,
Well I guess I'll just do my best,
To get along alone.

Don't ya see

I'm gonna take myself for a ride,
On the wild side,
Maybe I'll run into Lucy in the sky,
With diamonds and she'll fly,
Me down to hell, and to the heavens up high.

Imma have me some fun,
Fuck in the sun,
And wait for the night to come.

I'll drink away the pain,
I'll say wot I mean,
And do it all over again.

Don't ya see,
I'm as free,
As I wanna be,
'Cuz wot I feel,
Is wot is real,
Not wot I see.

Don't ya see,
Yer as free,
As ya wanna be,
'Cuz wot ya feel,
Is wot is real,
Not wot ya see,
Don't ya see.

Conversations with a christian God...

I am the chief,
My will be done,
I am the only one.

I sit upon my throne,
Chewin' on a bag o' bones,
Of those who came along,
And those who have not yet gone.

Imma mean ol' brotha,
I shall not be bothered,
Otherwise with a black veil you'll be covered.

And then send down to.

That firey place below where those who defy me go,
I'm the wisest of the wise,
The badest of the bad, I'm all,
That you fear,
I am the beginnin',
But I'm also the end,
Imma tricky lil' chap my friend.

Truly yer a nobody,
In spite of who you try to be,
Ya behave cowardly never boldy,
Nor are ya as shiney,
And bright as gold, on the contrarie,
Yer a lil' S. O. B.

Yer a spoiled lil' sucka,
A tricky lil' fucka,
Wot's wrong with you is that you never had a motha,
To tell ya wot's right and wrong.

Truth is you should be the one who goes.

To that firey place below,
Where the most rotten of the rotten go,
Those who haven't got a soul.

They seek in ya warmth,
You giv'em cold,
Scenarios of pain and sorrow,
If those lil' bastards don't do as they're told,
Yer just a mean kid with a magnifying glass,
Burnin' all the ants, but mate yer losing the girphold,
Yer losing the griphold.