A Short About a Guy That Dies Every Night - Open Mike Eagle, Paul White

I heard some lucky guys live a hundred lives

And wake up with a stomach full of half-dead butterflies

I’m full of dread from the faith of the evening

As each nightfall brings the blades of the guillotine

Some nights struck down trying to stand on my power

Most nights on my belly playing dead like a coward

Well I should tighten my muscles legs is frozen

Don’t speak to eek out a couple extra moments

I’m trying to slow my vitals, doing silent breathing

The life of an off-beat show during pilot season

Execs wanna see who can cancel me the most

So fast I never get the chance to be a ghost

The lifespan of a house fly traded for an eon in the sand with my mouth dry

Give me torture give me terrible marching orders

Give me dirty water give me anything except shorter

Gunned down when it’s sun down

Murdered in cold blood everyday

Don’t hope two springs eternal like you don’t know

I’m about to be gunned down when it’s sun down

About to be choked out by the night

If I could just live for more than one day I might be gold

I’m hoping one day that my carcass is hard boiled

I’m stuck in the cycle of a cartoon gargoyle

And if I live to be 101 days old

I grow straight up to the sun and get charbroiled

But maybe everlasting life is a curse though

Eternity is drama making life the commercial

But no thirty second advert has enough build

When all the the night vision camera footage is a snuff film

Crush, kill.

Cycle of the sun is build, destroy

I fell on so many swords my stomach’s got a keloid

I’ve died on the phone, I’ve died over e-mail

I’ve died in the silence where the limbs of a tree fell

And lived for a brief spell and lose consciousness

In the middle of a brief yell, waking in a deep well

That started all over when the pendulum drift switched

But which two gods birthed this to begin with?

Gunned down when it’s sun down

Murdered in cold blood everyday

Don’t hope two springs eternal like you don’t know

I’m about to be gunned down when it’s sun down

About to be choked out by the night

If I could just live for more than one day I might be gold

Died everyday like the enemies in Power Rangers

Up against a homicidal flower stranger

I even heard a son growing in the upper wombs

Real fucked up to sit and have to watch the others bloom

Born on the train to Auschwitz-Birkenau

It’s Groundhog’s Day, every night is a murder though

A: So fundamentally it’s a matter of securing

K: Of course

A: for himself some… some…

K: …heavenly grace

A: …some heavenly grace that will preserve him against falling into this

mournful round of coming to be and passing away.

Thinking of the past,

on the one hand, anticipating the future on the other, you’re saying he falls

out of the present now

K: Yes, that’s right

A: I understand