The truth confronts you as the sea
There was a fool in a dressing robe
I see all the faces of the winners and the losers
I watch you sit and twitching
They look out their barrels out in space
Embraces parting hard steel surfaces
Want my band, want my stash, want omnipotence
Should we get our trousers tightened?
See that she's warm when the summer ends
I wondered if the thunder meant I'd landed in hell
Some kind of divine right to the blues
