Confessions of a Man (Mad Enough to Live Amongst Beasts)

The smoke dances <br/> And the two colours make love <br/> In spiral of cancer <br/> Chairs stacked to burn <br/> And their firey reflection <br/> Shows in the windows of gaping sockets <br/> <br/> Silence, could be dripping from every pour <br/> Violence, could be melting into every scar <br/> <br/> North is east tonight, as the big magnet says <br/> Point out the flowers and lift my fringe <br/> Teach me and spin my photos of machines <br/> The sun has got to me, boiling fat in my belly <br/> <br/> Octagon sword moon <br/> Like a red breasted pecker <br/> Stands out in the plush greens <br/> <br/> Ill falling petals <br/> Lounge reluctantly <br/> Incase of a dry Monday <br/> <br/> Silence, could be dripping from every pour<br/> Violence, could be melting into every scar<br/> <br/> Why are they looking at us?

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

Six locusts pour butter on your face <br/> Surely you now churn with beauty <br/> Finding the confession of chastity <br/> More the sweet bite of a mother poisoned <br/> <br/> She keeps waking up in the morning <br/> I can't vomit that fact <br/> God must have made us <br/> In the image of his ass <br/> <br/> With her bruised bones and scattered morals <br/> Her gift sits uneasy on a wire tank <br/> And an architect whispers her next role in drowning water <br/> <br/> She keeps waking up in the morning <br/> I can't vomit that fact <br/> God must have made us <br/> In the image of his ass <br/> <br/> You slap on wooden lip skin <br/> And dodge pins and buckles <br/> Brushing off the clinkers <br/> To music of leather churches <br/> <br/> A grill over a voice in cotton <br/> And more money than cock <br/> Enjoyed by the mass of paper shredders <br/> With gorps of devilish anti-light <br/> <br/> The moon drips on you <br/> And gives the arm a hand <br/> Mended grains struck bleak <br/> For wisdom groaning <br/> <br/> Distened looks on steamed pans <br/> A fleshy gate stalling <br/> Viewing the close ruins and neck tax <br/> Where you landed in a bottle <br/> <br/> She is the mother of impulse.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

Snapping purl skies drop piss on leaves <br/> The carpet is yellow, was white like papers <br/> I was solid, like resin windows <br/> Slacking off pipes because I want to pet something <br/> <br/> File this under wallpaper for old folk <br/> Its got to be nice to look at for years <br/> <br/> The spirit gets rotten five dawns a month <br/> In marble embossments and brass naked cupboards <br/> It is frowning, hanker for a needle <br/> Cracking off boxes like cold bench foliage <br/> <br/> Enervate <br/> Enervate me <br/> <br/> Cock me off a pearl <br/> Grate me up a pound <br/> Cock me off a pearl <br/> <br/> Shoot the mother with fingers on my child <br/> Its got to be a clean shot and quiet <br/> <br/> Enervate <br/> Enervate me.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

On this which is like a last chance piss stop <br/> To beacon the days vomit intake <br/> Smells like fish in the sun of eastern morning <br/> Refreshing as the cunt saying sorry <br/> It looks like the hellish darkness <br/> Of the minds sight lost in judgement <br/> Can I spray in uncomfortable tiled surroundings <br/> My level of hygine is hard for some <br/> <br/> Evident most like it dirty <br/> As bathing in vomit and spunk <br/> Caught and stored for a period of seven years <br/> Injected and festerd in sleep <br/> <br/> I can see my envelope but will you hide it <br/> Confirmation that I cant be down <br/> Where is the capitol and the leader <br/> With the new era of the cunt <br/> <br/> The fuck, the cunt, the new era <br/> <br/> The fuck of the times <br/> Drying off still today <br/> For then it was it to be <br/> <br/> Now ask if the times <br/> Always the dry life <br/> Are the new era of the cunt <br/> <br/> The fuck of the times <br/> Drying off still today <br/> For then it was it to be <br/> <br/> Evident most like it dirty <br/> As bathing in vomit and spunk <br/> Caught and stored for a period of seven years <br/> Injected and festerd in sleep <br/> <br/> The fuck, the cunt, the fuck, the new era.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

Sinking down <br/> Its ripping off her smile <br/> A second ordinal child <br/> Of velvet wings <br/> <br/> Carbon ghosts <br/> Are coiling up her shift <br/> Leeching clear bliss <br/> From vexing speech <br/> <br/> Black rust lungs <br/> Shrive on the callous way out <br/> Reduce milking down <br/> To a count <br/> <br/> Clotting clouds <br/> Loom over her paper nest <br/> White noise and death in tune <br/> From carbon fumes <br/> <br/> This isn't happening <br/> <br/> Silent touches <br/> Are frisking her for spares <br/> Nourished by the scent of <br/> Idle dark air <br/> <br/> Mouths fringed with nails <br/> Her weapon is her smile <br/> Seasonal tears, a <br/> Form of zero <br/> <br/> Climbing – climbing up to you <br/> Climbing – up to you <br/> <br/> This isn't happening <br/> <br/> Comatose – now I is see you <br/> Morose – now I see you <br/> <br/> Sore, like me, I'm sore <br/> <br/> We're not really here, not really here

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

Catch, my klieg eyes <br/> In, married circles <br/> Limber, set with inspect <br/> Stroke, the submissive <br/> Serene, shining wingers <br/> Fly, in my number <br/> Passion, their propeller <br/> Dilating, my cancer <br/> <br/> Return to the soil <br/> In the name of the marker <br/> <br/> The fuckers know my trails by <br/> The magic senses of their hairy antlers <br/> Making it pie to judge a direction <br/> For them to attack with shock fire <br/> You can carry your body weight running <br/> But the airtank is light with speed from <br/> Underground nutrition <br/> Proteins and vitamins <br/> <br/> Catch, my klieg eyes <br/> In, married circles <br/> Limber, set with inspect <br/> Stroke, the submissive <br/> Serene, shining wingers <br/> Fly, in my number <br/> Passion, their propeller <br/> Dilating, my cancer <br/> <br/> Return to the soil <br/> In the name of the marker <br/> <br/> The maybugs don't live to fight <br/> They just love the smell of killing <br/> With armour and technology advanced <br/> By not knowing the underside <br/> Its big gum pegs hidden and <br/> The burning reflecting black shell <br/> Brushing his targets with the cream point <br/> On his muscular spinal tail <br/> <br/> My klieg eyes <br/> Marred circles <br/> Set with inspect <br/> The submissive <br/> Shining wingers <br/> In my number <br/> <br/> I swear on my knees <br/> And I swear on my neck <br/> That claw faced widow maker is after me <br/> Go back and die young with your mother <br/> Hold your sunburst wing shield over <br/> Your colour filtering sockets <br/> Get warm with the new pupa <br/> And softly pass the incest to another death <br/> I swear on my knees <br/> And I swear on my neck.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

The notions, this sickness <br/> Purifys the flies that blow white <br/> Tinted versions of passing lights <br/> Paralysed and bleached <br/> Using fingers, gesture a welcome <br/> Open shoulders symbolize nothing to trust <br/> Not for my <br/> Dislodged servant of moths <br/> <br/> Drinking wine to the presence of…oxygen <br/> And the power of troubled careless…mercy <br/> Spitting dust from the diligent…wanderer <br/> And the leaves are rolling into my…number <br/> Rust slides down the ridged cracks…on my face <br/> And I learn about vivid trespassing…trees <br/> Nine times over my knee…scent and cement <br/> I think I have the right flavour tonight <br/> <br/> Shys like I can <br/> With imaginary vessels <br/> Be my emotion <br/> Rather than my noose <br/> <br/> Reapply my fist to my ass <br/> Check for a girl inside with snow <br/> A positive change to compulsive masturbation <br/> Alarming you? <br/> I know how the best. <br/> <br/> The notions, this sickness <br/> Purifys the flies that blow white <br/> Tinted versions of passing lights <br/> Paralysed and bleached <br/> Using fingers, gesture a welcome <br/> Open shoulders symbolize nothing to trust <br/> Not for my <br/> Dislodged servant of moths <br/> <br/> Walls of cogent knowledge <br/> Produce disease through the mind <br/> Stimulate an action <br/> To devise a short coalescence.

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026