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letra de fiend - iain woods

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[intro, spoken]
(it’s so incredible, i couldn’t possibly tell you! it’s here, can’t you feel it? this whole room, it’s, it’s… everything is in color, and i can feel the air. i can see it! i can see all the molecules!
i’m part of it, i’m… can’t you see it?)

inside

i must keep running from the beast!
he only gonna lead me astray!
i tried to change my sh-ll with the light
but the blood still stayed the same; it don’t rain!
and the snow don’t snow and the wind don’t blow
and he always takes the weather with him everywhere he goes and
o, my love, he went away

so now i press my brain up to my eyeb-lls and keep looking out
i am astounded by the things i see
i ask you: am i in the mind, the world, the universe
or are the world and universe inside of me?

i must stop getting hooked onto things i can only see a shadow of
who knows how long it’ll be before we’re changing lanes for good?
lord, i’ve been beautifully disfigured
so i’ll be stored with all the other birds
round here

[sung, (spoken)]
more mixin’, scratchin’, cutting up the tracks, and
layin’ em back with a little more tact
(i’m not with anybody else! i’m [?] stupid head!)

you must stop waving that poison right underneath of my nose, baby!
only it takes is one slip of the lip before you go and let me wilt, like a rose!
and the snow don’t snow, and the wind don’t blow
and he always takes the weather with him everywhere he goes and
o, my love, he went away

so when i press my ears up to the walls, i keep on listening
if there’s a god out there to hear me shout;
i ask you: if the universe will eat me from the outside in?
or eat me from the inside out?

i must stop getting hooked onto things i can only see a shadow of
who knows how long it’ll be before we’re changing lanes for good?
lord, i’ve been beautifully disfigured
so i’ll be stored with all the other birds
round here

more mixin’ (yeah)
more mixin’ (yeah)
more mixin’ (yeah)
more mixin’ (yeah)

i span my web into the night before i realised:
if i could not save my soul, then who could?
when a noiseless, patient spider i mark’d
whereon a little promontory he stood, lookin good!

more mixin’, scratchin’, cutting up the tracks, and
layin’ em back with a little more tact
more mixin’, scratchin’, cutting up the tracks, and
layin’ em back with a little more tact
more mixin’, scratchin’, cutting up the tracks, and
layin’ em back with a little more tact
more mixin’, scratchin’, cutting up the tracks, and
layin’ em back with a little more tact

- iain woods

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