song lyrics Antonin Artaud lyrics Songwriters: Ash; Murphy; Jay; Haskins;
The young man held a gun to the head of God Stick this holy cow Put the audience in action Let the slaughtered take a bow
The old man s words, white hot knives Slicing through warm butter The butter is the heart The rancid pealing soul
Scratch pictures on asylum walls Broken nails and matchsticks Hypodermic, hypodermic, hypodermic Red fix
One man s poison is another mans meat One man s agony, another mans treat Artaud living with his neck Placed firmly in the noose
Eyes black with pain Limbs in cramps, contorted The theater and its double The void and the aborted
Those Indians wank on his bones Those Indians wank on his bones Those Indians wank on his bones song lyrics
|