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letra de çabalahate - goddamn goths on meth

get’s me every time!
well, guten nachmittag and ciao
my b-n-r-inducing beauty
which translates to hola in french!
i suspect you’re hankering for some cloak and dagger shindig of some such??
i reckon you’d fancy a posh supper soiree
with cold duck confit kool-aid
fred flintstone veneer, poppyc-ck banter
and droll tomfoolery!?
such well-bred shenanigans would cause the queen to bust out her meat curtains before god and cream her royal undergarments right there in the house of windsor!
so throw me a bone and send an sos
before the p-b-s in my crack turn gray!
i’m in the book, toodles!

(get’s me every time!)
(generally vulgar?)
(it’s b-tch-craft!)

under toe my lost psalm of sole
heads arise wisely look to the sighs
entranced in-wait
for the master debate of tomfoolery afoot
foreign tongues pied in the sky
ate in hand, as the second coming draweth nigh
the due reaper looming
we need to talk to you of some urgency
flaws centered; trust in me
your inner peace couldn’t intertwine
with the new rage, spurned devout religion
fear-fitting stands sad on this contagious mocking
words’ balahate.’
key the ghosts
trust in denial; why do you want to be found?
deceitful cons of sin, the meaner the nations
a painful onslaught, so d-mn blind to the dark
to the divine and whether or not you pine
you’ll listen to the world-ology
k!ll philosophy
this evil matter, a perfect calamity
acutely, this is to depress
case in the piece, pierce the nerve
non-benign fables lurk
icey edicts to fabricate
sublime cystic sermons
preach and deal with white light delusion
too late
whisper, i’m wrong; this isn’t me
mundane plague enslaved our odds
all hope will be dead soon
while you stall
goat-ass-graved and mass razored
but i’m afraid that i’ll never be the same
this season of nasty vibration
maw words first hours secret immobilized
desires price of a vain reason to live

- goddamn goths on meth

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