William Blake Overdrive - A Wilhelm Scream

I will make myself

A mile from the racetrack

Drag my losses home

It kills me not to go back

And we float with parasites

All our lives

There’s me with the geriatrics at the slot machines

There’s me, the embodiment of how slow life can be

There’s me, dead eyes are glowing

There’s me, mine are always shut

Passed out on the road

Just hours from the racetrack

Saw Lamotta raise a toast

He said «You got me with the right jab»

And we float with parasites all our lives

With this advice — we learn until we’re dead

Be losers 'til your sanguine thoughts subside, we learn until we’re dead

A fallen dream’s not just a morbid sign, it’s opportunity

These days I find beauty as depressing as years beyond my time

If I could make this old heart young again, I’d find

Another topic to drone on, a more fashionable vice to lean on

Some better words to speak on that escaped my younger form

There’s me with the geriatrics at their slot machines

There’s me, the embodiment of how slow life can be

There’s me, short of imposing

There’s me, please be involved

Can I stop, I stop imploding

At every obstacle thrown on me?

Imply, yeah, right

This is only a prettier glimpse of a life so ugly that’s mine