Black Art Number One - The Ghost Of A Thousand

What a cunt this world

What a difficult feeling

To have swift right hand

And never have the left to cover the bleeding

I know, but you know, why let the feeling / show it son

I know, but you know why let it go?

So?

Please you got to give us more time

My god, it’s the end of the world

Set phasers to stun

At the heart of the sun

With an ice pick raised

In an arc over what we’ve done

I know, but you know, why let the feeling / show it son

I know, but you know why let it go?

So?

Please you got to give us more time

My god, it’s the end of the world

Put my hopes beside the river, lay them down

Let the water hold them under

Please you got to give us more time

My god, it’s the end of the world