I don't wanna be a king
I'm a poor old soul from the sparring ring
Where I fought my way through hell
They kicked me still when they rang the bell
And the audience yelled for more
There was so much blood on the mopping floor
That the janitors took a swim
I held my breath - I wanna be like them
But
"Oh, my love - my child..."
A sweet round face with a certain grace smiled, and leaned in.
"Pick yourself up by your bootstraps, child, and beat them.
Fight to beat them!
Learn from your mistakes and try not to repeat them."
I don't wanna be a god
I'm a no good swine and I'm chewing sod
While the others are swatting flies
We hold no rites when a loved on dies
No, the farmer just loads the trough
It tastes so sweet but there's something off
It's dinner with my old friend
I'm laying down - I want to be like him
Hold me like a pig in a pen
I think I won't bite again?
Post-punk in the Sonic Youth mold—melody covered by creeping fuzz, anchored by architectural rhythms, with lyrics both abstract and direct. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 5, 2019