Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 18:42:26 -0500
Subject: lyrics to POAAF album
From: guitarist69@juno.com (iou i ou)

                                   Prelude

                      There's no earthly way of knowing
                        Which direction we are going
                    There's no knowing where we're going
                      Or which way the wind is blowing
                        Is it raining? Is it snowing
                          Is a hurricane a-blowing
                       Not a speck of light is showing
                        So the danger must be growing
                      Oh, the fires of hell are glowing
                         Is the grisly reaper mowing
                       Yes! The danger must be growing
                        For the rowers keep on rowing
                      And they're certainly not showing
                      Any signs that they are slowing!
                               Stop the boat!

                               Cake and Sodomy

                 I am the god of fuck, I am the god of fuck
                Virgins sold in quantity, herded by heredity
                      Red neck burn out mid west mind,
                       who said date rape isn't kind?
                          Porno nation, evaluation
                      What's this time for segregation
            Libido, libido fascination, too much oral defecation
        White trash get down on your knees, time for cake and sodomy
                          Time for cake and sodomy
                (I am the god of fuck, I am the god of fuck)
               VCR's and vaseline, tv-fucked by plastic queens
        Cash in hand and dick on screen, who said god was ever clean?
        Bible-belt round anglo-waste, putting sinners in their place
  Yeah, right, great if you're so good explain the shit stains on your
face
        White trash get down on your knees, time for cake and sodomy
                          Time for cake and sodomy

                                  Lunch Box

                                 On we plow
              The big bully try to stick his finger in my chest
                    Try to tell me, tell me he's the best
                But I don't really give a good goddamn cause
                  I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
                  I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
                  I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
                               I wanna grow up
                     I wanna be a big rock and roll star
                               I wanna grow up
                                 I wanna be
                           So no one fucks with me
             I got the pencils in my pocket, try to put me down
                         Wanna go out, gotta get out
            To the playground, gonna throw down at the playground
                               I wanna go out
                    Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
                    Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
                    Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
                    Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
             Pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow
                               I wanna grow up
                     I wanna be a big rock and roll star
                               I wanna grow up
                                 I wanna be
                           So no one fucks with me

                                Organ Grinder

                  I am the face of piss and shit and sugar
           I do a crooked little dance with my funny little monkey
               What I want, what I want is just your children
           I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being
                       Caliopenis envy from your daddy
              You're not gonna hear what he don't want to hear
                           What I say disgusts him
                    He wants to be me and that scares him
          Lets do a funny little dance with my funny little monkey
                               The black keys
                 Here is my real head, here is my real head
            I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
                            Here is my real head
                    They try to blink me not to think me
                         Don't want to bring me out
           I am the rotten teeth, my fists are lined with suckers
                My prison skin's an eyesore mirror sketch pad
                                I am your son
                                  Your dad
                                  Your fag
                                  Your fad
                 Here is my real head, here is my real head
            I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
                            Here is my real head

                                   Cyclops

                    Cyclops woman got one eye in her head
                      Mascera-clotted vision she is fed
                   Cyclops woman can't see nothing at all
                       She got a pin prick spiral hole
                    She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                    She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                      Cyclops woman dying in her shell
                   Guilt got her trapped in nailed in well
                    Cyclops woman is the eye of the world
                      Who's reflection's in the retina?
                    She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                    She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                              Dialate, dialate

                                  Dope Hat

                I peek into the hole, I struggle for control
   The children love the show, but they fail to see the anguish in my
eyes
                     Fail to see the anguish in my eyes
              I scratch around the brim, I let my mind give in
  The crowd begins to grin, but they seem to scream when darkness fills
my
                                    eyes
        Seem to scream when darkness fills my eyes, it's no surprise
                 Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic
  My big top tricks will always make you happy, but we all know the hat
is
                                 wearing me
            My bag is in the hat, it's filled with this and that
       My vision's getting fat, the rabbit's just a monkey in disguise
              Stars and pills and needles dance before our eyes
     They will bite the hand if it is slower than the quickness of their
                              scrutinizing eyes
                 Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic
  My big top tricks will always make you happy, but we all know the hat
is
                                 wearing me
 Chicanery will always make you happy, but we all know the hat is wearing
me

                                Get Your Gunn

                         Goddamn your righteous hand
                             I eat innocent meat
                          The housewife I will beat
                           The profile I will kill
                          What you don't do I will
                           I bash myself to sleep
                          What you saw I will reap
                         I scar myself you will see
                             I wish I wasn't me
                            I am the little stick
                            You stir me into shit
                            I hate therefore I am
                         Goddamn your rightous hand
                              Goddamn, goddamn
                              Goddamn, goddamn
                        Pseudo-morals work real well
                       On the talk shows for the weak
                        But your selective judgements
                             And goodguy badges
                           Don't mean a fuck to me
                            I throw a little fit
                           I slit my teenage wrist
                          The most that I can learn
                         Is in records that you burn
                        Get your gunn, get your gunn
                        Get your gunn, get your gunn
                        Pseudo-morals work real well
                       On the talk shows for the weak
                        But your selective judgements
                             And goodguy badges
                           Don't mean a fuck to me
                                I am the VHS
                          Record me with your fist
                        You want me to save the world
                           I'm just a little girl
                        Pseudo-morals work real well
                       On the talk shows for the weak
                        But your selective judgements
                             And goodguy badges
                           Don't mean a fuck to me
                        Get your gunn, get your gunn
                     Get your gunn, get your gunn... get

                             Wrapped in Plastic

                    Guilt is a snake we beat with a rake
                 To grow in our kitchen in the pies we bake
                   Feed it to us to squirm in our bellies
                 Twisting our guts make our spines to jelly
                         Stay, don't want to go now
                    Drove the children from their chores
                     Handcrafted housewives into whores
                    Fear of the beast is calling it near
           Creating what we're hating, it's only fear that is here
                         Stay, don't want to go now
                     Come into our home, won't you stay?
            I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
                     Come into our home, won't you stay?
            I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
                   I'm only as deep as the self that I dig
                  I'm only as sick as the stick in the pig
                    Thin and so white, thin and so white
                          Daddy tells the daughter
                       While mommy's sleeping at night
                To wash away sin you must take off your skin
                The righteous father wears the yellowest grin
                             Don't wanna go now
             Stay, don't wanna go now, stay, don't wanna go now
                     Come into our home, won't you stay?
            I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic

                                    Dogma

   Burn the witches, burn the witches, don't take time to sew your
stiches
                     Burn the witches, burn the witches
         Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
                  You cannot sedate all the things you hate
  Burn your bridges, burn your bridges, don't take time to sew your
stiches
                    Burn your bridges, burn your bridges
         Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
                  I don't need your hate, I decide my fate
                  You cannot sedate all the things you rape

                                 Sweet Tooth

                        Her heart shivers in my hand
                    She's melting on me like cotton candy
                     I make the faces that make you cry
                    I want you more when you're afraid of
                     My disease, disease is draining me
                    Anymore you're not so 'pretty please'
                       Disease, disease is draining me
                  I want you more when you're afraid of me
                         I will break you inside out
                         You are mine, you are mine
                         I will break you inside out
                         You are mine, you are mine
                      Her hair hangs in swollen strings
                  'm choking on her, it feels so sickening
                     I make the faces that make you cry
                    I want you more when you're afraid of
                     My disease, disease is draining me
                    Anymore you're not so pretty, please
                       Disease, disease is draining me
                  I want you more when you're afraid of me
                         I will break you inside out
                         You are mine, you are mine

                           Snake Eyes and Sissies

         Wrench is just a household God but I carry mine with pride
           I don't work but I can work with it to split your smile
      Run you down without a twitch, your car's just not as big as mine
     Tear the son out of your bitch and sprinkle your remains with lime
     I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
                                Rollin' sixes
      I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
                        My afternoon's remote control
                         Daydream milk and genocide
             Tranquility with broken knees, silly putty enemies
                          Butter knife in your side
             What I got I got for free, middle finger technology
     What's yours is mine, yours is mine, told you fucker, yours is mine
                           Snake eyes for sissies
     I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
                                Rollin' sixes
      I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
                         I am the pedophlle's dream
                            A messianic Peter Pan
   Just a boy, just a boy, just a little fucking boy, I can never be a
man
     I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
                                Rollin' sixes
      I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
     I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
      I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
                               (Oh no, Oh no)

                                  My Monkey

                            I had a little monkey
           I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
              Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
                          And now my monkey's dead
           At least he looks that way, but then again don't we all
               (what I make is what I am, I can't be forever)
                           I had a little a monkey
           I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
              Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
                          And now my monkey's dead
                             Poor little monkey
           'Make you...break you...make you...break you...lookout'
              (what I make is what I am, I can't live forever)
                         We are our own wicked gods
                        With little g's and big dicks
              Sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise
                           I had a little a monkey
           I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
              Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
                          And now my monkey's dead
             The primate's scream of consonance is a reflection
                        Of his own mind's dissonance

                               Misery Machine

        Man in the front got a sinister grin, careen down highway 666
    We wanna go, crush the slow, as the pitchfork bends the needles grow
        My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
      We're gonna ride to the abbey of thelema, to the abbey of thelema
                              Blood is pavement
  The grill in the front is my sinister grin, bugs in my teeth make me
sick
                                  sick sick
          The objects may be larger than they appear in the mirror
        My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
      We're gonna ride to the abbey of thelema, to the abbey of thelema
                              Blood is pavement
                                  I am fueled by filth and fury
                  Do what I will, I will hurry there, there
        My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
                              Blood is pavement


WEll, there it is, Marilyn Manson's POAAF lyrics, for comments,
corrections, etc,
email me at   PSYCHOACOUSTIC@JUNO.COM	later, if anyone has the tab
for snake eyes and sissies please send it to me. later, and sorry for the
screwed up writing but this archaic email service just screws up text
stuff

Eric Newman