I idealize lies like lavender skies Why, Sunflower, I don't even know you... ... Idealize lies like flies on a window pane, We think the sun will keep us sane, But all we ever do is stare Upwards

In the middle of the midwest there's a town, and all its stores are shutting down; on every corner they've got Video Game Poker. Where all of your friend, like trends or ships, they come and go atop the awful, violent flow of cash to the upper-class through dead-end-jobs and title loans. But who am I to say this town is fucking lame, I'm just another shut-in. By now I bet there's enough of us, that if we made a fuss something may just happen. Honey don't hold your breath, or you'll pass out. You may be missing what this town is all about, so sit back down and find yourself some shiny new way to escape. Any thing will do, if it might get your through the rets of your day and in the morning you say: Who can even say what will come our way, When we meet tomorrow? Well I bet I fucking can, and let me tell you man: this isn't hard to follow. 'Cuz nothing ever happens in this town, it's like a giant merry-go-round. Around we go, to show each other we can last just one more week. You can try to do your best, or start a stupid band like all the rest of us, but sooner or later, this town you will hate her, you just wait and see. Is it just me, or does it seem like maybe following our dreams should earn us more than just bed sore or poverty? Is something wrong with all of us or is it just society failing to meet our needs as human beings? 'Cuz I don't even know, oh, why I try to get ahead, most days when I wake up I just wish that I was dead. But wishes don't come true here in this town, they will only fill you up and drag you down, down, down. It's such a shame they names this city what they did. 'Cuz for a while now that spring's been shot, and the field is just an empty lot where all the poor kids go to watch things rot away. Springfield, we are running out of luck. Better stick another buck into that slot machine. (Pull the lever, watch the screen.) Springfield, we're down to one last dime, and pretty soon we're going to find we've wasted all our time. We've wasted all our time.

Life sucks and then you die; isn't that what you say sometimes when you've been drinking? Those six words have served you well, like a safety net or a magic spell; a curse to keep you safe from the perilous fight for self improvement. But you're in my bones... And you're in my brain.... Years ago I used to cry when I would think of how the blue birds fly over the rainbow. But I have realized after all these years I was crying someone else tears and now I don't know how to stop. When they are in my bones and they are in my brain. They are in my blood. They are in my love. They are in my name. And they're gonna kill me some day. I'm telling you now: I don't know how we will ever escape this stupid town, it's like a black hole... it's crushing our soul. So I'm thinking first, we'll brake the curse holding us here, and it's going to hurt, but I've been thinking... and when you doubt it can get any worse... it usually can... It's in our bones It's in our brain. It's in our blood. It's in our love. It's in our name. They are in my bones and they are in my brain. They are in my blood. They are in my love. They are in my name. And they're gonna kill me some day. Life sucks and then you die. Words dance round my dizzy mind when I've been thinking and I'm always thinking.... unless I've been drinking...

Come all ye' faithful who lift a cross of love; I bare and urgent message though it's not from god above. Now, you may not like the Devil but they are sending me this song to warn you: If you don't do something soon your Jesus will be gone. If you don't do something soon your Jesus will be gone. Satan sees a creature hanging high up on a cross. It's skin is pale and perfect and it's eyes are dead and lost. The preacher who has pinned it there is slingin' seeds of gold. The Profit Prophet smiles as he feeds upon the old. The Profit Prophet smiles as he feeds upon the old. Now, Satan hears a whisper from some eighty years ago. When Mood was a fool who left his flock unto a crow. And the Fire in the Field, he left only burr and thorn. Your Jesus has been dying since the Corporate Christ was born. Your Jesus has been dying since the Corporate Christ was born. Now when that bastard came to be, boy, who can really say? I heard he paid the price for all those nice white people buying slaves. Native folk they knew him well, he stole their land, sent them to hell; Eight-hundred-thousand sounds to tell that 'aint the Christ you serve. Start practicing those words. And what about the witches and the muslims and the gays? All burned and beat and stoned to deal, yes, all in Jesus name. Were it up to me I'd like to see your bible up in flames, But beelzebub is kinder, so your Jesus she will save. And Satan says to save him then you must retrace your steps. To peer into the past, it doesn't call for spell nor hex. But hurry now you sleeping souls, you oughtn't linger long. Cuz if you don't do something soon your Jesus will be gone. I said if you' don't do something soon your Jesus will be gone. Come all you faithful who lift a cross of love. Should you have the ears to hear, then hear this song we've sung. You may spurn the Great Accuser, but I swear about their name: Should you taste the fruit before you, you will never be the same. Should you taste the fruit before you, you will never be the same.

"Child, pass through here." Dear, I have been broken by my negligence. Atum's joyous tears must taste so damn sour inside of your ancient, aching, mouth

I... I forgot how to see. I forgot how to be my self. I think I could use some help. Because lately, when I look through my eyes... It's like they are a size too big. It's like I am trapped within... and I'm all alone in the human shaped home, which I have built around my heart. I keep it all clean and for a second it seems like I am doing okay, but I know I am not, and no one can tell from outside of fly shell, but I like it that way, or so I thought. But now my life is a dream... and I can't wake up. I... I forgot how to be. I forgot how to see my self. I think I could use your help. Because lately, when I look in the mirror... It's like I'm not here with you, and I don't know what to do... When I am all alone in the human shaped home, which I have built around my heart. The featureless walls only given a pause by one single window who won't open up. So I stare through the pane and see you say my name, but your voice is so distant and mine just seems... stuck.... It's like my life is a dream... and I can't wake up. Since we were small we've been discerning those things that our parents couldn't bother learning about them selves. Like why they weren't happy, or why they would yell, or how they were lonely but they were just far to drunk to tell. Now we're all alone in the human shaped homes which we have built around our hearts. They once kept us safe while our minds would escape to a place that didn't hurt so much, but we built them too well and now we cannot tell where our bodies begin and our misery starts... But if our lives are a dream... just some terrible dream... then doesn't it seem like we deserve better? If our lives are a dream... Why not dream them together?

Across from a park at the edge of a town A child is playing with dirt on the ground. Although back in their house they've got plenty of toys It makes them feel weird and they can't stand the noise. Of those other two people who live in the home They may be together, but they're all alone, And they're sick of each other but more of themselves, though neither may know it the child can tell. So across from the park they are digging a hole 'cuz they need to make something that feels like their soul. Across from the park they are digging a hole It's deep enough now for the parts of their soul They can't keep any more, 'cause it hurts them too much To be shamed for those things others lean upon crutches To keep from their minds, avoiding the times They've traded their pieces for nickels and dimes, And the child reminds them; the sadness inside them, It doesn't get better; it chokes and it blinds them. So across from a park at the edge of a town, they are breaking their heart; they are casting it down. Watch how the pieces are turning and churning around. In the depths of the Earth there lie discarded spirits abound. Pink ballet slippers and tears that were cried Over feelings of wrong-ness, while not knowing why Coalesce in the form of some terrible demon With horns like the Devil, it's dressed up all queer, And there's pity and shame in its eyes as it rises up from the depths, Opens its mouth and said: Child, I see you someday I will be you again. Oh the lessons we'll learn and the bridges we'll burn before then. So start searching in vane for those things hidden here; I will see you again in just twenty-some years. I will see you again, I will be you again. Now I've got a shovel, I'm digging a hole The dirt is my darkness; the Earth is my soul. I've grown out my horns, I'm dressing real sharp, And I've built a time machine out of my heart. If we don't do the work and re-learn how to see, we'll be trapped here in heaven, we'll never be free. So across from a park at the edge of a town I lost something one, and now I'll see it found. Child, I see you this day I will be you again. By the lessons we've learned now those bridges we've burned, we will mend. While searching in vane for those things hidden here; We have found so much more in just twenty-some years. I am here for you now. You are here for you now. I am here for me now. You are here for you now. We are here for us now. We are here for us now. We are here for us now. We are here. We are here.