Both as a standalone and as part of the DSOTS album, you can take this lyric as read. As a matter of public record, Jourgensen's drug intake was legendary even in the 1980s. By the late 90s, in his own words, he was grappling with massive addiction issues and had lost almost everything: friends, spouse, money and had nearly died more than once. "Dark Side of the Spoon" is a both funny & sad title for an album made by a musical genius who was losing the plot; and this song is a message to his fans & friends saying he knows it. It's painful to listen to so I'm glad the "Keith Richards of industrial metals" wised up and cleaned up. Well done sir.
[Hook]
Ice, melting in my chain
Pretty as my hair
Ugly as my name
Dirty as my gold
Comfy as my chair
Ugly is my name
Ugly is my name
[Verse]
No weapon formed against me shall prosper
My sword look just like Michael's
He lent it to me, this a house of God
I'm just leasing, he rent it to me
This sentence he penned it too
That's a Gmail, he sent it to me
I can send you his contact, hit him if you in combat
Hit him if you in traffic, even if there ain't no static
That's my G, he got me shinin'
My hair, he made it tangled
My seed, don't need no lining
A halo fits on an angel
And if the shoe fits, I'll tie his and let the kiddie rap
Finally give the city back, and ask God for a piggy-back
Up on his shoulders I notice, I'm within earshot
I yell, "Thanks for makin' us in your image
You got a good sense of hubris"
Ice, melting in my chain
Pretty as my hair
Ugly as my name
Dirty as my gold
Comfy as my chair
Ugly is my name
Ugly is my name
[Verse]
No weapon formed against me shall prosper
My sword look just like Michael's
He lent it to me, this a house of God
I'm just leasing, he rent it to me
This sentence he penned it too
That's a Gmail, he sent it to me
I can send you his contact, hit him if you in combat
Hit him if you in traffic, even if there ain't no static
That's my G, he got me shinin'
My hair, he made it tangled
My seed, don't need no lining
A halo fits on an angel
And if the shoe fits, I'll tie his and let the kiddie rap
Finally give the city back, and ask God for a piggy-back
Up on his shoulders I notice, I'm within earshot
I yell, "Thanks for makin' us in your image
You got a good sense of hubris"
Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher
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