When words die they do not stop living
They rest for a while and reflect
In a leather bound scrapbook of pending
For the day they will have an effect
The word is an agony morning
The word is temptation at dusk
Words from the storehouse are warning
You’ve used up your consignment of luck
Take this word and bury it deep
Take this word and bury it deep
If it’s wasted it won’t be forgiving
Its revenge will be savage and slow
With assaults on your senses for living
To remove from you all that you know
The word will succeed without fearing
Your innocent, beatific smile
It will brand you with merciless searing
Igniting your soul as you die
Take this word and bury it deep
Take this word and bury it deep
(Available as a recording)
Hogwash Stories + 