Sick Days Are Upon Us

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Nomi] Layers of scalp under manicured nails And a matador stands in his death ballet Cellos bellow like workers on break Once devout to the catchers of prey Seasons a day, hunters with tools King of king need to hire a fool To laugh and smile and wipe his drool I slit his throat while he slept with his queen The jester is me, the laughs of the creek Smoking Newport's and drinking the V O them days, the woe to the sick Could sleep through a war and wake when it ends Make peace with the Lord, the priest and the Pope The industry stole your ideas and eloped The mind is simply a terrible thing Applied to these eyes, born with a squint [Verse 2: Advizer] We're in the part of the country where the radio buzzes But we don't turn it off 'cause we fear the sound of nothing Heat even makes a noise like bugs humming Rubbing their legs together indicating hunger It's all around us Like developing resentment between small-towners Fall down as quick as you stand Dehydration, hallucination, sicker than A sick man licking his hand React to the cricks in the thick of the land Hear the stones sticks shifting again Like old bones in a rickety man I said we're all destined for stomach rot Sugar eats the teeth of crumbs that numb the plot Of brittle hair hovering over their eyes That don't see nothing but culture's disguise [Bridge x2: All] I scan the room on a sick day Looking for objects upon which to fixate [Chorus x2: All] Sick days are upon us now Sick days are upon us now Sick days are upon us now I tried to warn 'em, teach 'em even beg 'em Now the epidemic is spreading again [Verse 3: Crescent Moon] I walk with metal pipes for legs, unsettled life a dread and yellow nights That bred unleveled types Bled in rebel fights at bars in ghetto heights Scars from Stiletto knives, stars were the devil's eyes Look at the meadow rise, making the town flood Praising the brown mud and praying it drowns us Fucked from the ground up, nobody comes 'round Watch men floating up the river at sundown Widows hold on to a blood stained sermon Not ready to give husbands to the fire Feeding a green corpse to prolong the burden Lifting the limbs up with pulleys and wires We're walking dead not given proper burial Cursing reptiles for the skin they can shed Packing more bodies than a cemetery holds Every time that it rains the streets are stained red Turns my blood into blue ice If I don't tell my story, my tomb might Hounds of hell with bloodstained tongues Sound the bells when Sunday comes Birds fall out the sky and hit hydrants We only pray to God when we're sick and dying Everybody looking for the source of the plague Maybe fleas from the rats or the sores on our hands We now tell time by the cries in the air Better off digging up coffins and hiding in there Dead-bolt locked tight 'cross my door Hear 'em clawing at the wood, fingernails on boards [Outro: Crescent Moon] Sick days are upon us now Dear God please bring the tall winds down Rid me of a never-ending night of decay Everything that breeds illness upon this ground