from by Miles of Smiles



If light trusts light, and dark trusts dark,
Then I don't know who to tell that I got both inside my heart.
Like every secret from the start, just confess it to my art --
Every shard of truth stark against the blackness like a star.
Many mornings without warning, I can feel the barren omen
That my mind just cannot find the right amount of serotonin, oh...
Excuse the recluse, he's a loner gettin' stoned, and
Chugging cheap beer as if there's cheer in every cold one.
For a moment, there is. Languid limbs turn to spaghetti,
Got the spins and feelin' heady, stone-cold lips ain't so heavy.
Got a bevy of drunk tokens that I spit up from the ocean
Of my throat and floating head whenever mouth becomes open.
I'll lecture for a while as if there's treasure and there's style
In the wretched bile I'm puking when my ego's in denial.
Oh, that vile and wily white kid. At least he's not violent,
Even if his mind is flyin' like a pilot who's been tied up,
Or a pirate who's survived a fine time in the storm.
Hell hath no fury like a dark night's scorn.
Pourin' forth a ragged grin as acrid skin fills the air.
Reaching up to Providence, it's obvious there's nothing there.
Oh, I'm scared into a frenzy when the sky looks that empty.
I like my friends plenty, but the bad men still tempt me.
So I often walk alone along the fault lines of hell,
With no freedom from the demons who believe in what they sell.
They swell behind my face and feast on every tiny faith.
There is no respite in my brain, but it still seems the safest place.


from cottonmouth (demo), released August 6, 2015



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