Pol's Voice - HORSE the Band

Its name mocks its silence

A worthless beast born to violence

Has ears and whiskers flapping

As its yellow flesh comes slapping

Across the rank filth of this ancient subterranean floor

Its hate knows no bounds

As its home knows no sounds

But the SLAMMING

CRASHING

SPLATTING

OF ITS YELLOW FLESH

I am the herald of light

I withdraw a shining glory

A single loving-end of story

The only weakness, a grace like wings

My bow, SINGS!

UNLEASHED!

And in the silver light

My arrows take the flight

UNLEASHED!

Splits Pols Voice’s head

And spills his thoughts and dreams

UNLEASHED!

A host of slapping bodies

Comes crashing to my feet

NEAT!

A host of slapping yellow bodies comes crashing in crimson piles

A host of slapping yellow bodies comes crashing in crimson piles

A host of slapping yellow bodies comes crashing in crimson piles

A host of slapping yellow bodies comes crashing

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY from your own voice

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY from Pols Voice

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY from your own voice

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY

RUNNING AWAY from Pols Voice

SILENCE!

SILENCE!

SILENCE!

SILENCE!