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von Jam Baxter

You left your face in the crotch of a bad night
Your morals are a flea-bitten rug on the
Floor and these people are lad′s mags
Speaking clichés in their glad rags, holding back the flood, sandbags
"It used to be alright 'round here," said Granddad

But now he′s staggering around and he's looking for a Poundland
And all he found was exposed beams and no ketchup
Sriracha and eggs for twelve-fifty, et cetera
Bargaining with hardening arteries
The marketing barks at us, it's hard to trust anything asked of us
Gambling with nothing but a handful of Temazepam
And strangling a mannequin for minutes
Before managing to extricate yourself and back to business
Back to dangling the carrot on the stick
Your teeth are rattling like tambourines


It′s an intravenous ambush in Adidas with the candlestick
Gripped between her fingers for the kiddies that believed it
Man, these imbeciles are leaders
And they′re quick to spread diseases when they interface
And every other Beavis on the internet is eager to be visible
Even in the middle of another metaphysical discovery
It's pitiful performances, slapstick jack-of-all-trades
An opinionated Autobot′s an awful lot to say, hmm
You're so real when you skin yourself alive

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And all your friends say, "Skin yourself alive"

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The receding hairline left his face tats hanging on his forehead
On crags of his skin shrouded in fog
Between the red wrinkles, read "Love, Sex, Death" in a child′s font
He stirred and murmured out to my squad
His ghouls found him a job mopping the floors
With his enormous absorbent eyes
Clogged with Insta models in shorts
Flogging the corpse of the wave with Daddy's walking stick
Stop hogging the aux, man


So here′s to the rabid dog on the porch
Drooling at obese little piglets popping their corks
That shoot through the city streets where children rob 'em for sport
Shovelling wet cement into every bottomless thought
Or line our arteries with all of you one day
Specks of fat splatter the skinny little alleyways 'round here
No one answers your ringing eardrums
Eye sockets set to vibrate

So bell the delivery drug man for the third time
And transform from starlet to addict in the swing of a car door
Melted skin slop on the passenger seat
Fizzes and pops, we found God on the corner at half four

I thought you were hardcore in your barbed wire running shoes
Now you leave a tell-tale trail of blood and booze
Every time your muscles move
Skin rifles through a hundred hues and settles on swamp green
Eternally fitting
And they became the insects drowning in their craft beers
That barely crawled out of the summer of last year alive
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And all your friends say, "Skin yourself alive"
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