Текст песни Swollen Members - Out of Range (Balance 1999)
I choke 'em with strings from Chopin, the carnival is open
We just finished stringing the cardinal from the rope
And the poles and the hooks of the tent
To sound crash impact in ten cents from materials dense
My serial complex does just in itself
It morphs and it melts and it sways and it tilts
And it's built of a techie type prototype
With a savagely faulty radar gun and headlight
When midnight strikes all these madmen might strike
Homicide strikes and box you in with pipes
Deformed monstrosity that exists to kill
Whispers of a mind gone mad with twisted skill
A sinful dwarf with even more sinister servants
You're dealing with highly intelligent life form that's observant
In this carnival of souls, spine tingling, pulse pounding
Feast with jungle beasts that adapt to their surroundings
Battlefields awash with blood, corpses, and error
I'm your host, wizard of gore and terror
Erotic and brutal visions of unspeakable horror
You're driving off a cliff in a black tinted explorer
Wishmaster, hellraiser, angelic elegance
Spirit warrior soldiering through unknown terrain with nine delegates
Slanted, planted my flag, now I'm relevant
Crimes of inspiration, passion will surely flourish
Cherish the purely nourished or perish from hurling courage
Beware of the swirling current, the blood-curling deterrent
Once again I'm left stranded amongst thieves and masked bandits
Abandoned, rapidly rattling off at the mouth at random
The last desperate attempt to soar with raging angels
The frightening excursion of my ultimate fantasy
Let's raise a bounty on the county jester
And raise the level on the fairground walkers in disguise of a leper
The quest for shield crest is fought in shallow waters
And the world's lightest vehicles float on scout's honors
Air bombers occupy, a much calmer reply
In the steel lidded sky that growls like octopi
My optical relies on what lies and what truths
Are produced on written ink stamps from here to Beirut
They shoot anything that moves, heavy blasts on mopeds
As the parliament parlays amongst Tories and socreds
Left the ocean floor so red from expansion of landmass
It runs velvet when shores are melted and depleted of grass
My life task completes the past, word to those who wore masks
To survive the late coming and arrival of the crash
As the murder of crows flow south like dark cloaks
As I'm high, unswayed Prevail, the periodical post
