New Communication

circa 1982 when I landed upon this planet
had the need to package what at 15 I saw unravelin’
my path in these chutes and ladders
among the well established
I entertained the thought and fathomed it could ever happen
devised the plan and swore in secrecy to cherish it
they sell it like medicine insurance is not a benefit
see if you’re generous, they’ll take your brain away
and use the same ideas for they own vein display
so cultivate hatred soldier you got it? yes sir
motivate patrons with stereophonics, yes sir
good, now switch the steez every piece makes a mark
like in the city digital circuits from analog parts
initiatin’ generation gaps
in the fast lane no breakpads tryin’ to eject my sorry ass
and kingfish wanna take take take but never bring it
got a fat pig apple in its mouth she’s ready to start singin’
I’m fluctuatin’ like the situation
losin’ it in weight when I fuel it
when they waitin’ impatient, for the new communication
is there anybody listening? over and out
hello can anybody hear me? over and out
witness the new communication, over and out
I think we’re gonna be ok man, Roger?
ninety percent business ten percent music
pretty vacant still takin names and no prisoners immune to it
never settle eat your heart out
where precious metal is reveled forever what about the shards of our town?
loveable rogues and flare wearers
shake up the state of flux
heartbreakers shake it up shake shake shake it up
the audible vaudeville celebrate at the carnival
get in line step right up, a winner every time
gotcha beginners better luck next time playin’
listen you made your bed now lay in it we change the face of it
guerilla campaignin’ I hope we aint workin’ for Satanists
chorus*
she’s peein out a cowards kid, limpin layin powerless
they poked him full of malices, eyes opened like Alex’s
a chromag version absurd to observe curbin’
a Serb and a slurred German fucked and he met a Persian
your destiny’s worms get a coat lifes a cold whore
post war find out why I sold my soul for
a teen hangin’ from the devil’s strings and ready
since the death of Iron Maiden been in a bag of Crazy Eddie
ten years promised to reign then it’s satans cellar
just started pour Shia handed me an umbrella
while the clock in stone ticks
I smell the fumes in my future and jones for a fix
60 CC’s of WM
stuck in a beast neck injected up to the end