Life would be a riot, I'd guarantee. It would break your little eyes if you could see. You would bleed and you would rust. You would turn your mind to dust and around your neck you'd wear a dresser key. You'd spend your days lethargic but distraught. You'd tie your little guts into a knot. You'd share demons with my sister-in-law and take it just like a punch to the jaw. It would be a disappointment, just hear me. Even with all the damage to your sanity. You'd be in spectacle shows where you'd learn to tame the crows but the dawn would wash away the memory. You'd see things like a nightmare from a dream. You'd lose your rook again to the black queen. You'd take yourself some hands full of pills and line your pockets with one dollar bills. Life would be a debt you'd have to pay, making the commute to hell day after day. You would spit and you would cry. You would vomit and you would die and nothing would have mattered anyway.
from The Misanthrope and his Doubtful Faith,
released January 18, 2007
Brooks Strause-vocals, guitars, bass, keyboards, mandolin, percussion and trumpet; Landon Strause-tambourine and cocktail drum; Chris Brown-tenor saxophone