Sluggard in the Lexicon
2005
Lack of animate counterparts and whispered lullabies
I search and dig but cant find the sacred dice
I go to the lexicon, cause you sent me to hell
Im cursed by a Mexicans shamanic spell
So let me hang here for seven days
to rearrange my spinal strays
and I wouldnt mind a tasteful haze
to distract me from pain of future days
My exotemporal soul is wired
in a net of colliding hours and words on fire
animate counterparts now would help
to unshackle my wrists and extinguish myself
My cold hips swing in this temporal lodge
but I dont wanna bear myself a grudge
for lost syllables and a pledge that fails
I cough and spit out morphemic entrails
My exocentric compounded self
doesnt want to worship my health
only in lying I know whats the truth
only in dying I can live my youth
Leech by leech, you cleanse my body
eat me up while I struggle and study
thematic falling out, Im high, youre not
but isnt this youth to waste all that Ive got?
My dear ashtray-holder, I esteem your shoulder
but dont you see were both getting older?
So I go to the lexicon, cause you sent me to hell
in ritual oblivion, thats where I wanna dwell
So just let me hang here another day
and spare me out another cosmic lay
albeit devoid of any bigger concern
Ill learn my lesson while I hang here and burn
