Lyrics
Yeah, so my skull's just a coffin for the corpse of my brain.
Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain.
Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes.
Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies.
WITCH!
Whip up a frenzy to rattle the worms to!
Sit down here with me, squint that fish-eye lens
Raise a glass to the face of the past
He who Dares, well he doesn't always win.
Crescendo or something to usher the past in.
All a'jolt to the march half thought;
sparks upon sparks upon kindling, caught.
All a'limbs a'roll, a'howl;
roll these bones down, funerary style.
All who wonder. All a'twitch.
Ride the dreaded cliché switch.
We belong dead.
Yeah, so my skull's just a coffin for the corpse of my brain.
Wriggling contents rattled awake by the driving rain.
Get the night watch on duty; come on lads - man the eyes.
Light this stricken beacon for some sign of the skies.
Gather round, gather round, gasp the dust from my bones,
snort your derision, dance the jitter dance encrusted with bugs.
Listening in to your silence, distorting dial-tone / white noise waiting list.
Rolling these bones against the door to halt the grating whistling of the wind.
Grating whistling of the wind.