I got a god in my head

Tells me that I'm crazy

Got a god in my head

Telling me I'm crazy

An angry little god punching on my skull

Another little god

Tells me that I'm lazy

A useless piece of shit with no love to give at all now 

And the smallest god up there

Thinks that I'm the greatest

Tells me no one else could be as good as me. 

I listen to them all, I was a disc jockey to consequences

Little propagandist selling misery

I build a cocoon I got to get away 

A shirt made out of wood and glue and crack and then some paint(????)

No one see ya down there and no one's getting in

I got a needle, a pack, a satchel, and a quart of country gin

I drink and shoot and smoke until the only voice I hear

Is the one telling me those other people, don't let anybody near

No don't let anybody near (x4)

And now the telephone is ringing, the walls are falling down

The city birds are singing, my soul's nowhere around

I have made myself a monster 

I have damned myself again

I have eaten all my children, I have tightened up my skin

I'm a walking crucifixion, I'm a fucked-up memory

Consumed in all that's left, I'm my mother's misery

I'm sucking on Satan's tit 

She's milking me her pussy

flower

I drink until I'm convinced there's no place left to go

You know there's no place left to go (x4)

So I drink until the pain is dry

I know it never is

Sometimes though, I guess I think that I'm the best

Until the morning after when I wake up with the guilt

Of burning down all the things my sacred hands have built

And throwing out all the love you know I never felt

Yeah, you know I never felt (x4)

Let's make our tortured Romeo's

Personal help can be unique

You bring it on yourself

Burn out when you might peak

The Holy Ghost is exiled from your heart and from your soul

If you control it it's no fun, and if it's fun you've lost control

Your past is plagiarism

your symbols have dried up

Your corruption's as confused

As old lovers that you dug

Like some hidden toxic fume

Your soul dissipates

In the ozone of guilty acts with motive

All the things you hate

There's bodies dancing, crazed

Sexual heat

Crazy in an orgy

The way starving people eat

Regrets weight overwhelms, and tired bodies fall

Bankrupt from the beaten

Let's split one more eight-ball

Blue as beggars, beaten, bleeding

Tired eyes made of rust

And we all know when it gets like this there's no one you can trust

No no there's no one you can trust(x4)

Some say the solution's locked in the sweat-box

I wouldn't know

I've never been there, I sold my keys to get a rock

We sing along to forgotten AM radio stations

And drink expensive wine, toast the friends that we left hanging

Like prisoners in conceit

We heard through the cracks

I know for sure don't trust no one who says' they've got you back

The windows all explode

Outside the noise pollution booms

Everyone's now hidden like cockroaches in dark rooms

I've been brought back from the dead before, so anything can happen

Obsessed with tragic antics, down and out like Eric Clapton

These are my wild years, I'm trying to enjoy the pain

The euphoria of dying

Toxins wrestle in my brain

We've all been leaders of corruption

We've all been spiders on the wall

Waiting for a hand to smash us or the doom of light to fall

Is this guilt of just self-hatred

Runnin' wild, uncontained

Leaking from a broken soul

Is this creation or a stain

Is this creation or a stain...