1. Lake Ontario

Follow your feet into the water. Lightning never follows thunder. It's been storming and your still swimming. The bolts burn brighter. The water's hotter. This lakes been drugged, we've found a floater. Lightning never follows thunder. "Everything happens for a reason." 'Tis storm season. You've been drunk for far too long and you need to stay sober. Spend the night at home and drink some water. Ontario here's the shocker, the way that thunder follows lightening that body of water will knock up your daughter. That body of water is hard enough to knock up your daughter. To let sleeping dogs lie, we'll give them sleeping pills. I've been purging for days, and I still have chills. You can run like hell but you should run like water. Squander over the wild blue yonder, it won't be blue much longer. This water, this water, this water kills, this water killllz..

2. Shy Guys

I've been killing time but it's been killing me better. I made me a drink and it made me a widower. But hey, you knew I wasn't a bar tender, I'm an entrepreneur. Am I coming on too strong? Yo, have I been coming on too strong? You and your mascara can just run on home to pull the blood from your body so the leaches can grow. If you don't know act like you know. The dizziness is from dialysis and not the pills in your drink. Count back the blood work, back track the track marks, move to the bedroom and spare me the dull parts. Spilling every ones guts but our own. Waking up in strange beds, in awkward homes. Passionate lovers try to keep your hands above the cover. Passionate crimes make for passionate boys. Passionate love making passionate noise. Don't act like you didn't know, our passion, it died a long time ago


3. Jamboree At The Jubilee


It's all right, it's okay. Crime doesn't sell, and sex doesn't pay. I'm fucking sick of trying to sell my band to people who I don't care if they listen. And if you show at our show there's a chance you'd go blind. This is where to go for the cheapest love you can find. Back alleys and back streets. Back doors lead to back seats. It's becoming routine. If beauty's skin deep, it's a lot more shallow than I'm willing to be. A fighter not a lover, I have the bruises to prove it. A lover not a fucker, but my standards are sinking. A pity fuck with you wettest of dreams, I love making music but it's becoming routine


4. King Of The Delta Blues


Their bones will break where their hearts cannot. The heads are going to roll, until I want them to stop. I'll be there with bells on, just name the state. It'll have to be underground because God ain't up this late. Their bones are breaking 'cause they're weary and aching. The axes are falling until their dull of their breaking. I'll be there for you but can we set us a date. I swear I love, I swear to God it's your father I hate. Lying to you never gets to me, because getting caught is what keeps me so honest. Honestly, I might be the King Of The Delta Blues. I sold my soul to write this for you. Get off your back. Is this really how you like to fuck? Face down ass up. Trade it pound for pound. Trade it quart for quart. Trading lust for love is like trading cheap as wine for port. White collar floozy has the blue-collar blues. More skeletons then closest and I still have more skin then tattoos. Ice where it's bruised, swelled, rub out those bedsores. To the face that launches thousands of ships, I miss you more then ignorance is bliss. More then I let on with my kiss. More then you'd ever care to be missed. Today a sister lost her sister, a song his fucking mother, more than this. Fuck this


5. Mistresses And Marriages


Line up all the mistresses and marriages. Yes, Get all our fucks in a row. Can we? Lets build us a family. Hell-bent on being heaven sent. This is a sham and I'm a shitty liar. I'm a phony, and a fraud. I'm a satire for higher. My philosophy is page thin, based devotion and repetition. Abort only the bastards. I simply practice sacrilege. It seems that history has proven blasphemy to be a predestine form for innovation. Devotion and repetition. I've been all stuck with knives. Yes, I've got the holes on my back. Your going to fucking pay for what you said, and I don't take checks. I keep my money in a sac on a stick over my back. Run around on each other. Travel under the weather. Jump train and skip town. Emotion and reputation. Listen up motherfucker. This is your conductor. All aboard, we're all aborted


6. Kissed And Dissed

I know this road like the back of my head. The night is long as sure as our taillights are red. Everyone's fast asleep, and nothings keeping me from dreaming. The night closes into the day seamlessly. And all I can think is "Fuck, if we could write transitions that flowed like that I wouldn't have to bust my balls and break my back." What is worse is my mother's geared towards a heart attack. If I could write shit that's as crushing as that fact I wouldn't have to bust so many heads and I could sleep on my back. Move away from my friends and pack my life in a sac. Work for bounced checks and blow all my cash. I know this music like the back of my hand. The next time we come here we'll drain the life from the land. Burn the trees and salt the ground. You can my ethics in the lost and found. Wear them if you want but they're worn in the crotch, from grabbing my balls like I don't give a fuck


7. Banned From The Band

Working my way to the bottom of a barrel. Married that man and borrowed the blues. Everything is old, everything is new, everything is borrowed and everything is blue. It's the kind of secret an uncle only shares with his niece. Only now she can't sleep, just lay in the bed between blankets and sheets. It has to be better than sleeping alone. It's better to be homely then live without a home. "Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen." Who gives a fuck? So fucking what if I didn't say it first, it takes smarts to rip off a genius and I got enough beans to get us out of this mess. You don't have to be Einstein to look into a mirror. Hickeys can be covered and then bruising disappears. It's the kind of thing you say when you want people to hear. It's from the bottom of my heart because the top just ain't sincere


8. Dinner And Dancing

If you didn't come to dance then get the fuck out of here. While you were spinning with them, well I was plotting your revenge. This is the end, the end of the end. And this is revenge, the end of revenge. Love throws as easy as a liquor filled flask. and now I'm burning the whiskey and I'm drinking the gas. Take us kicking and screaming, bruising and bleeding, bitting and scratching, while begging and pleading. We're collecting the scalps of the men we've destroyed. Surrogate mothers, lock up your valentine daughters. Keep them away from the spray. The blood slings stain the psyche. Leave no ache neglected, leave no stone un-thrown. Separate the flesh from the bone. Your personality is infectious, that's why we cauterize the wound. Honey, squeeze my hand if it hurts. Here come the water works. I'll be coming home, just no time soon


9. Love Them And Leave Them


You watch your P's and I'll mind my fucking Q's. I wanted the whole world but I settled for the fucking news. Everything I own is from the side of the road. One pair of black pants, a black shirt and white shoes. And for that you can thank the man in black. Cash said it all, but what do I have to lose. People don't change, their bullshit just gets better. As we grow older our love goes down the shitter. We keep our unfinished business in our unfinished basements. Then mortgage our houses to pay for our faces. Sick and tired of puking and sleeping. Woke up this morning not sure if I'd been drinking or dreaming. I love who I love, and the distance makes me fonder. Maybe I should find another I can long for longer. A bolder boulder. A stronger blonder stone mother. A younger rock lover. Ain't love so lavish? Ain't love a bitch?


10. Dumb And Dahmer


You pawn your children off like bishops, and I sold my lover off like a rook. And how the fuck do we sleep at night? Reading someone else's romances, skimming through second hand books. Writing other peoples poetry. Dulling down a pretty girl's good looks. Some mother's love dope more than the children. And some fuckers love fuckin' more then they like the love. I'm not saying that one is better than the other. I think they're equally as fucked. Apparently sex isn't the cure for insomnia. Evidently dope isn't the cure for a broken heart. The two are a catalyst for dislocation. I have to say, I'm glad to see some people still appreciate the concept of an apology, even if it's better late then never. The same can be said about forgiveness, it's just so oddly typical that I am undeserving