Blood in the snow, blood on the airbag, blood in the air.
Winter rages, winter ravages, winter reckons.
Winter… when there are no words.
Winter… when music is not enough, and when it’s all that we have.
Karma police, arrest this man
He talks in maths, he buzzes like a fridge
He’s like a detuned radio
Karma police, arrest this girl
Her Hitler hairdo is making me feel ill
And we have crashed her party
This is what you’ll get
This is what you’ll get
This is what you’ll get
When you mess with us
Karma police, I’ve given all I can
It’s not enough, I’ve given all I can
But we’re still on the payroll
Winter recedes from focus – I cannot get my arms around it, can’t get my head around it – winter obscura, sentences collapse, words fragment…
Walls of noise rise, but not here, not in this post. Not when we so need melody… and solace. Ease to the ears, healing for the head – and I wouldn’t dare ask for any help for the heart.
This is what you’ll get
This is what you’ll get
This is what you’ll get
When you mess with us
Winter obscura… like silent snow, secret snow, sickening snow. Snow on the television, snow on the phone, snow on the brain. Snowy blowy bloviating bullshit.
For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
No one should be ok right now.
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