Waiting for Black Metal Records to Come in the Mail

What has become of all of us

all ceilings

all skies

Is that

the stars can swim a thousand dark miles

Before they ever see the floor again

With their backs against the wall on these last days

But then

we knew that would happen anyway

You drop that pitch-black pall

Over us

one and all

again

To propel your national machines

Giving us all the disease

but not the vaccine

A thousand tiny lives

Disappear into the black stretch

And I guess I thought I'd feel something but I didn't

But I didn't

yes

that's a myth

With their backs against the wall on these last days

But then

we knew that would happen anyway

You drop that pitch-black pall

Over us

one and all

again

To propel your national machines

Giving us all the disease

but not the vaccine

I would give anything for a cool glass of water

Without this poisonous oil

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never gonna be good enough

No

it's never… (fuck)

No!

No!

There's no air anywhere

It's all money now

Wouldn't you do the same?