Thursday, June 02, 2011

2.30 : 6/2/05 : Innards

Isn’t it the root of horror
all the red pipe stacked within
listen to my innards’ anthem
dance on the head of a pin
such a fuss we’ve made over skin
still we can’t deny we need it
got to keep the innards in
nice distinction mind you heed it
feeling like a gutless coward
feel I’m near to spilling badly
I don’t have the stomach for it
I’ll trade all my clichés gladly
just to know my gut reaction
just to hear my innards clearly
how I’d love to get in touch
yes you know I’d love it dearly

You can read an explanation of the origin of these lyrics here
Post a Comment