i which someone could make a case
for how i could stop from losing my face
pull a knife on you for your last ten bucks
shit i guess i kinda like the rush
see diamond eyes walking down the street
try to get attention while still being discreet
feel blood rushing to my head from my feet
sweet sticky viscera a visceral feast
dirty hands
dirty mind
dirty speak
spark a cigarette and walk on by
i've got the whole world on my mind
i need a way down
give me a hand out
give me a back door
i'll slip quietly out
what do i know about love?
what do i know about him?
what do i know about girls?
i know enough to alway get my hand bitten
i hear the squeal of a pig stuck for slaughter
try to remember how we're all sons and daughters
in a city so indifferent to the colors
all grey and black
all smother
i need a way down
give me a hand out
give me a back door
i'll slip quietly out
Winged Wheel anchor their Space Age grooves in rock, the muscle of drum and bass and guitar undergirding wild flights of fancy. Bandcamp Album of the Day May 3, 2024