City of Industry

Airbourne, my thoughts shrouded by cloudform
the line ravaged in the wake of this groundwar
the quint-essential outlaw
eye of the storm my tears fall in the torrential downpour
the flood, ya deathwish written in blood
i came in from the cold clothes dripping with mud
gripping the club, primitive a stig in the dump
swinging a punch, the bad seed pick of the bunch
i drink black rain, take another swig and im drunk
taste venom on the tip of my tongue, my lips cold
spittin out toxins i couldnt dissolve but with hope
never sold my soul for fools gold, so im still free
but too numb to feel pity, some broke down
now this still City’s a ghost town
snowflakes cover the ground in white carpets
seasons of espionage as time passes, the lion-hearted
survival of the hardest artist
my open arms embrace darkness
still craving carnage and informy
evil parasites starve on this carcass of industry

You can see me as cynical, trapped in my own gothic vision
encapsulating chaos in this composition
calculated like the lies of a politition
gripping the slipshot i size up the opposition
I drop a match in the clouds and watch the flames rise
Fire water falling from these grey skies, to painted trainlines
Chrome over red brick reflective, like a jem stone in a sess pit
Jehst gives belief to a skeptic
the truth neglected like open wounds that turn septic
Infected by the fourth toungue of a liar
now my thoughts are the color of fire
and my nights spend one in the kaya,
un-inspired by the freak show i see ghosts dance in the trail of my weedsmoke
my words are folk law that survive the cold war
new world order and so forth – i go north
ankle deep in snowfall, leaping over dry stone walls with a hold all
steam clouds rise from my firey breath
its the last twilight before the silence of death (death)

Posted in Jehst.