Explosion from the bottom of a well. Thin walls harsh wind. I tried to tap a deeper, brighter vein but I’m back in old skin again. Pale stone. I am out of blood. Left in the chapel by a thousand other things I could have loved but barely touched. We used to talk to god with acid on our tongues. We were divine when we were drunk, before the world put out the fire and fed us crumbs. Chasing bended light, I went missing on the roads that wind through the corners of your eyes. Barbarians. Guard yourself with laughter, numb the meaning with the word. Barbarians. We tamper with a down machine but know it cannot work. Barbarians. We had such promise until we broke our promises. Why can’t it be the year two thousand? I want to live in the year two thousand when I was dumb enough to truly believe. Why can’t it be the year two thousand? I want to live in the year two thousand when having nothing meant having everything. No one is taking my calls anymore. I can never get through. Acknowledge me you motherfuckers, I am cold and I’m blue. You savages. Barbarians.
Every Time I Die is a loud rock institution committed to leaving every nuanced outpouring of chaotic passion and blissful malcontent all over their records …