Nothing fun ever happens here, he said,
Striking a match and igniting his brother
As we gathered near the gas-cans
Smoking and laughing as the flames grew higher...
He held a razor like a paintbrush, cutting the
Truth, raw and bleeding, in the bellies of swine
Our homeroom teacher fell to his knees, praising the
Curve and the cut of the line
Said, “Ooh, you better look out for this one!
'Cuz he’s a killer for sure!”
Nothing cool at the car-park, so he
fashioned a piece made of meathooks and teen!
It struck a nerve with the Paris Review,
It had a compelling aesthetic principle!
Ooo, and all the mothers across the land
Brought their babies to touch his hand
He became the special man,
And we were The Firebrand…
From ten or twenty dustbowl towns to
Maybe a hundred a thousand or more
They were fucking in the streets!
They were painting in blood!
They were calling out his name!
Soon they were chewing-off their own hands and feet, they were
They were trampling each other to please us!
We brought the madness first-class coast-to-coast!
Like the Beatles we were bigger than Jesus!
Oh, how to measure a mind like that? He was
Always a step ahead, a font of fashion
-- Signing his name with a blood-red passion!
Yeah, and that piggy was rich and fat!
Violence is a song from the heart!
Art is murder, and murder is art!
…
Nothing cool ever happens here, he said
We were lying in his bed, all warm and numbered.
Nothing cool ever happens here, he said
And put a gun to his head.
Oh, what a beautiful bang!
(Bang, bang!)
His finest work!
A masterpiece!
Oh, we started singing his name!
Oh, Cain! Oh, Cain!
Hey, we love you man!
Oh, what a beautiful bang!
(Bang, bang!)
His finest work!
A masterpiece!
Oh, we’re still singing his name!
Oh, Cain! Oh, Cain!
The song goes on forever!
credits
from Phantasmagoria,
released October 26, 2023
Music, Lyrics, and Vocals by Mazus Graves
Connor Reilly played Drums.
Connor was recorded by Ben Spees.
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