Listen to the silence in the paper
Listen to the silence in the paper
The man is earnest, The Waxidermist
And as you lean his past excursions
Listen close to the silence in between the tale's lines
Discover other versions of truth or beat it
Soon he'd reached the path of learned teachers
And became a hermit when he reached enough deserted land
His eyes no longer hurting from the features
Of believers in a darker preacher
Don't even ask, torture of the gate keeper
For the greater, meeker future for the people
Put the power in their power bars
And pass 'em to the golden eagle claw
The stank attract the vermin and it's mad concerning
Last he heard the word was burn em
Fill the urn and turn another blind eye, wise guys, mass perversions
Carries title like a burden, fact he earn it, wacky Waxidermist
The stack, he learned, is green backed and lacks courtesy
Urgent we discuss prior to more murder sprees
A global state of emergency
The world is hurting you, hurting me, hurting D
Best to know the circumsteez when the sherpas leave
Twerk and tease if you please, raise the mercury
Well-timed nursery rhymes burst the seems
The man steps to the curtain, breathes deeply in and out
Folds the paper, makes haste now, escape route
The only place to call home now
Blown out candles carry smoke through the whole house
A forgotten gem rotates
The pape' now folded to a crane in the center of the plate, wow
Warned ya. Yeah I said it's not easy
If you listen closely, that's enough to really please me
He be, a fourth dimensional ghost
Coast to coast appear, vanish in air (vanish in air)
She like to share her emotions with ears
Holes in heads I feared she would make things clear
(Does that mean) Does that mean I like it cloudy my dear
A genius workspace is cluttered, ain't no room around here
So she smiled very softly, making him a coffee and
The devil's on they minds, I'm trying get him off me
Now how my armor get a piercing?
Friendly-fire whistling, song I never heard before
I don't think I'm ever bored
This is Rocky Horror show, maybe season three or four
Episode seven, where they match hell and heaven
In a glass ceiling chapel
Standing in the scaffold
Human skin hiding what's inside the tabernacle
Well-timed nursery rhymes burst the seems
The man steps to the curtain, breathes deeply in and out
Folds the paper, makes haste now, escape route
The only place to call home now
Blown out candles carry smoke through the whole house
A forgotten gem rotates
The pape' now folded to a crane in the center of the plate, wow
The man is earnest, the Waxidermist
Vast excursions
Listen to silence in the paper
(Listen to the silence)
