Fistful of Hollow - Swingin Utters

Come inside

I can show you another room

Step aside

I’ve the keys to an empty tomb

It’s private and quiet

A darkened respite for me and you

Give it up

For the craft you’ve cut yourself for

Scare up the ghosts and confess

Don your scars and scorn

Mind over matter

Dizzy and battered no more

The cream of the crop is corrupt

It’s low brow at the top end

The cream at the top’s hyped-up

And over exaggerated

Obvious and jaded to no end

Channel it all

Into a manuscript

Or divert it all

Into a clenched fist

Mind over manners

A visceral splatter

Let’s all burn all the banners

Whistle and hum

All the hymns as we go