You set the table in your spirit

entertain the devil for a while

And then you laugh at all his jokes

insisting it's alright-

it's okay to smile

but you are



Dancing with the demons

and walking on the wall that borders hell

thinking "Right now, I'm not testing God,"

but always wondering how you'd feel if you just fell?



I'd like to say that it was simple

like a dog you don't want pregnant so you fix her

But it's a matter of unconscious sin

I don't know if you know it, but you're been brewin' up a strychnine elixer

because you're



Are you walking darkly

to avoid the razor light?

Did you lose the taste of flesh and blood

when you threw up late last night?

Is your soul in some fine limbo

between bitterness and lust?

Can you talk about the cross these days

without wincing in disgust