song lyrics from the callous daoboys posted at pseudorandom intervals (approx. 8 times/day)
maintainer
@ijomeli@void.rehab
love my stupid phone calls
they tend to look alike
for 100 hundred fucking years, babe
everyone's a fuck
everyone's a funeral, funeral, funeral
full of guilt for good reasons
was discovered in the occupied zone of mena, arkansas
we here at the museum of failure were lucky enough to have the artifact marked as historically important
and the reel was shipped across border checkpoints
having now seen the collection in its potential final form
we now know that these pieces weren't just created by man
but by heartbreak, anguish, frustration, infidelity, lust, addiction, divorce and suffering
one may imagine the head of a constantly changing beast
ripping open the author of these words with more and more blood
the head of a fox wearing the young writer's body to prop them up
whilst the second head of the pig snuffs out every word of regret
this is true failure, embodied and immortalized
this is embarrassment painted over the first and last name of the grave
(is the recording on?)
this is i don't want to see you in heaven by the callous daoboys
i pray for the disaster to incinerate
walking off the earth just like you walked off stage
write a hit summer album, never worry again
i'll lie to you just like a sign
'cause on that day my writer's block
will be like every wall of sound i've ever written
peace is directed to coexist
to hate the sin and never your own kind
bullet tags on my spurs on the off chance
that i die in the sand
or the lawman is no bastard inception of harlot conclusions
enslaved to the lake where his paramour sleeps
and if i make it west, if it takes all year
i am so grateful for the way that you're supposed to be
when will things change? i'm enjoying myself
i'm raising eyebrows, but i'll never get caught
press up your chest, that's how i like it
you'll never know, she'll feel hell if she does
don't ever tell, i'll win in court
6 months felt fine
in some city we don't belong in
with see you again as the tag line
welcome to the bottom of the ocean where we create temptation
(sun explodes)
red flags up all the way
if your suffering sticks to the ceiling, you won't be satisfied
fentanyl tastes like shit
give me that pipe i wanna bitch and complain about my girl
till it haunts me
the drugs can come up and get on the floor
we are reminded of your scripture in proverbs, which says
'cause on that day my writer's block
bite half your tongue, dig your own grave
you can breathe outside, i lied to make you stay
