Filthy Blues.

Can’t stop now I’m gonna Muddy the water.

Not even that Devils gonna save my soul.

I’m a fucked up child with a punked up daughter.

Making the most of this riff I stole.

Johnson’s gonna hate me, I've nothing to lose.

I’ve gotta make the most of these filthy blues.

Johnson’s gotta hate me, I've nothing to lose.

I’m gonna make the most of these filthy blues.

Can't wait now I’ve got a belly of lead son.

That big bad wolf is howling at my door.

Hooker’s comin at me his guitar raging,

Hit that riff I’m gonna give it some more.

Johnson’s gonna hate me, I've nothing to lose.

I’ve gotta make the most of these filthy blues.

Johnson’s gotta hate me, I've nothing to lose.

I’m gonna make the most of these filthy blues.

Probably stolen by fascists.

Time decays, it melts away.

Where does it go?

The thief of time stalks this land.

Stolen moments close at hand.

I climb the mountain of hope.

I search for the non-existent.

Blind by the dark.

Crippled by yesteryear.

Always looking.

Never seeing.

Ever searching.

Always wanting.

Ever longing.

Always alone.

Who stole my time?

Where did it go?

Something is missing.

It’s just the way.

I think I know.

I know that I know.

I need that time.

One day I shall take it back.

One day I shall have it back.

Illusion/disillusion.

You can make her feel, nothing left is real.

Nipped into the waist with her very high heels.

There’s no more pain to give, she says it’s all used up.

She’s so very tired, trying to give a single fuck.

There is no illusion here, what you see is what you get.

Just disillusioned here, you're only winning what you bet.

You can lie to her, things aren't the way they were.

You know that she will wait, it’s not a choice or fate.

She can take the pain, keep it all the same.

Nothing left is real, you know you made that deal.

There is no illusion here, what you see is what you get.

Just disillusioned here, you're only winning what you bet.

What kind of man are you, you never kept it true.

The kindness all used up, drink from your empty cup.

In time you’ll come to see, all things as meant to be.

And when she shuts that door, she’ll leave you wanting more.

There is no illusion here, what you did is what you know.

Just disillusioned here, you're only reaping what you sow.

There is no confusion here, what you did is what you know.

Just disillusioned here, you're only reaping what you sow.

A song from the desert.

I walk this dead road, through pain and through fire.

My patience has withered, the flames become higher.

Valhalla is calling, this hell I find waiting.

Through darkness I wander, a demon creating.

I'm Waiting and wanting, I'm crawling and falling.

I'm grasping at straws now the end it is calling.

The search it is over, yet nothing was found.

My bottle lies empty, I fall to the ground.

From cradle to grave, from ashes to ashes.

Sung by the wraith of the world it detaches.

I turn into dust blown wild in this wasteland.

Disappear from this world, become one with the Red sand.

I'm Waiting and wanting, I'm crawling and falling.

I'm grasping at straws now the end it is calling.

And I'm gone.

Don’t feed the hipster.

Middle class wannabe cut to the bone

Glasto fetish, craft beer frenzy.

World viewed through the screen on a phone.

Prius driving ponce with Tesla envy.

Just Don’t     feed the hipster.

Just a fucking bore.

Just Don’t     feed the hipster.

He’ll be back for more.

Fucked up beatnik you were never there.

Gluten free, microbrew, post ironic gin and tonic.

Stolen identity: an aire and a spare.

Organic food, diet tonic, supersonic.

Just Don’t     feed the hipster.

Just a fucking bore.

Just Don’t     feed the hipster.

He only be back for more.