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vincent vocoder voice - the swindler of the abyss lyrics
it pains me to say it but i know i’m right
what’s the point in trying?
what’s the point in trying?
if i met my dream girl the smile would fade in time
what’s the point in trying?
what’s the point in trying?
tried nihilistic melifluity
now all your smiles and your frowns look the same to me
look the same to me
look the same to me
hefting my empty ark through the dust of the lake
and i will blow my pity like cigar smoke in your face
and i will flow like oil into the cracks in your heart
and i will freeze and thaw until i break you apart
yeah, the transi tomb face onto which you like to paint
is an antichrist’s skin on the skull of a saint
and yeah, you cast your prayers into a wilderness of mirrors
with a nothing right behind you getting nearer
and nearer
and nearer
and nearer
and nearer
and nearer
all your wolves and hearts and pearls and scarves
what a crock of sh-t, what a f-cking farce
if i could spare the air to care at all
i’d be beating my head on your bathroom wall
lover, pr-ck my heart with your epipen
so i can oink and squeal round your bed again
round your bed again
round your bed again
blind drunk in my church that stinks like a hutch
under porcelain eaves that could shatter with a touch
strung out on book-pile pews slowly pulping with mould
waiting for god to turn up so i can do what i’m told
i’m seeing mandelbrot sets in the shroud of turin
i’m seeing rorschach blots in original sin
under this microscope i have never seen chaos clearer
with a nothing right behind me getting nearer
and nearer
and nearer
and nearer
and nearer
and nearer
i’m a murderer, cruel and smug
i sing “i, too, was wrought with love”
but, side by side, in the empty square
when the trapdoor drops, will we walk on air?
they can’t see the ghosts i do
so take your gentle hand and run me through
to stop my ears to this cosmic howl
from these metal-crowned gods
with their spastic bowls
because i can’t shake this mane of mange
and i’ve tried and tried, but i just can’t change
so kiss my mouth to plug my doom
and whip my hands ’til i change my tune
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