I’ll Turn You Blue
Don’t it hurt? It made you cry this time.
The skin has cracked beneath the surface.
I’ll turn you blue,
Cut off your breath ’til something happens happens here.
On your knees, those praying hands have ’come so violent.
Photos look the way we always wanted them.
Those photos look the way we always wanted me.
What an awful place we dwell.
In hell, I’ll wait for the hand of god, come down down down.
That crucifix chained ’round your heart, I’ll pull it ever so softly. Is it real to you? To you?
What an awful place we dwell.
In hell, I’ll wait for the hand of god. Come down down down.
I’ll tear you in two to find your center.
I’ll tear you in two to find what’s there.
I’ll tear you in two to find your center.


Sleepyhead
Bloody knees. Two crutches for that one, please.
How much are poor little souls? Their apathy loves the sound around and ’round this room.
It’s curtains for me baby if I can’t operate.
Quick and painless surgery for all your advancing armies.
Quick and painless surgery for all your advancing armies.
I’ve worn the memory of your eyes, green and bright.
Can’t stop those christmas lights from blinking off and on, how they’ve lost their charm.
You shot out every star that night. One by one by one by one by one.
Now I can’t pray, I cannot dream another second thinking of you.
Punching punching holes in me, searching for every feeling left. I can’t rest. I won’t rest ’til,
won’t rest until you leave my sleepyhead.


Poverty
Here come a prairie fire, but you ran away.
You left her dead.
Now she’s clinging to her two legs watching the paralytics pray for healing healing.
Left alone, I found out the meaning.
Listen listen.
How she loved to sing Amazing Grace.
How sweet the sound.
Mother mother.
When it’s time to take my medicine, strike a match.
We’ll set the world on fire.
We’re living in poverty. Paper money ain’t nourishment for babies’ bones.
Fall and worship fall and worship fall and worship,
she sings.
Paper money is poverty.
Finding answers ain’t nourishment for babies’ bones.


My Shell-Shocked Snail Shell
You move the earth beneath my heavy feet.
Up then down, another crash landing.
It’s no surprise you dropped a bomb.
You dropped a bomb, then fired your guns.
You dropped a bomb.
You’re killing me you’re killing me
You’re killing me you’re killing me.


Copyright 2005 Actors&Actresses