Dance of the Doomed - Brendan Kelly and the Wandering Birds

I am a poor, tired boy flailing in an airborne grave

All the tattoos that you gave to me have faded away

But the rest for the reckless will come someday

I’m out of line cuz I’m out of lines

I’m out of lines cuz I’m out all the time

Swinging from the vine like a damned baboon

There is a name for the way that I move

This is the mo’fuckin dance of the doomed

I found your stash let’s go get high

Let’s go hide out behind this grocery store all night

One for me.

Two for you

Three and four I secretly do

Five makes me so sick

But seven makes this sickness stick

And boy it’s always sticking to me