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letra de sollerod fascists - coin locker kid

you know i’m broken
the methods in which i open
are yours, and most exclusive
i tend to be quite elusive with my insides
the evidence is inconclusive
voices in the dim tried hard to make a use of it
i remember when you used to sit
tight the noose a bit
tellin’ me the pull’s too loose to submit
slippers never fit
especially when they’re made of glass
you were made of ill-begotten elements we cast
in the alchemist’s flame; it’s saturn

it’s saturn. it’s saturn. in the alchemist’s flame, it’s saturn
in the alchemist’s flame

it’s saturn
when i open there’s never reason or pattern
her digression’s interwoven with the changing of the seasons
though the weather is never to question; it’s just leaving
in my heart of hearts
where i see your chest in it’s motion and how it’s heaving
i rest upon your breast
just to listen to your breathing
and something deep below
in spite of it’s heavy beating
makes me wanna die slow
it’s something i know, and you know:
that you took it from me
the swell in your tummy’s a young juno
she was made of ill-begotten elements we cast
and she’ll grow to be a queen and harness jupiter’s mass
if the ends prove to be
justification for means
there’s no such constellation even in between
there’s no such constellation even in between
there’s no such constellation even if it seems so innocent

—

i came to join the game, so you didn’t have to wait up
with the weapon’s tip straight up
the victims get laid up; stripped
behold the flesh wound; the dripping leaking fat lip
rats trip over the carcass
and i would know: i slip through glass darkest
wind up on the other side, looking-side, joust
spun the metal from the fire-side, rook inside house
i came to claim heads for the queen
young squires fed from old guillotines
cooking in the cold i mean
but as means to end
we slay foes that seemed friendly
once upon a time ago before the inquisition
everyone’s a p-wn lost in the superstition
wishing –

- coin locker kid

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