Radio Wars

There’s lots of shit building
Between my radio wires
The peasant life just might cut it for me
Your smile was always too rich for my taste
The sun was always too dull for your face

We’re all martyrs
Fighting for a reason to die
To braid into the history books
We call our own

The radio men whisper to me at night
And tell me about the hues
That make up the views
I see when I look at you
And the spacemen tell me how round the moon is
So I feel at home
Every time I see her
We all got colors and we all got shapes

We’re all martyrs
Fighting for reasons to die
But if we’re lucky
We might even get to finish July
Fuck it to the history books

I made Lucifer’s bed with fright
Cause I lost my reason to die
Last night

Wick State

You burned up my insides Oregon
Oh Salem Witch Trials you burned up my insides
And I can’t find the ashes
No, I can’t find the ashes

Where’d they go?
And why the hell can’t I find them here
You stole the Pope and he preached me dead
He helped me sin into a coma
Where’d my fucking insides go?

Show me your Hawthorne
And your Stark and your Burnside
Fuck it all just damn it fuck it all
Hide my smoldering insides
I love you until I can’t burn anymore
I love you until you can’t burn anymore
I love you until we can’t burn

Think you can walk but you can’t run away
From everything you took
Steal the Pope and have him preach me dead
But nothing will ever take away
The five thousand bullets shot under my bed

Note: There isn't any animosity towards Oregon in my body. This is merely how far I will go to rid my bones of poet's block.