Now work toward or crawl through the soil or sky You gotta look to one, you're preordained to try But there's no way, no way out forever! Upon the antichthon the other side of the sun Sits your better self with an empty gun And there's no way, no way out forever! A spine is but a snake, man, once it's severed Silent as a mandrake until its time Tied on a Friday morning to a black dog tail Your homonculous he's setting sail And there's no way, no way out forever! They did a black mule rag upon a noble steed And it looked to you to intervene But there's no way, no way out forever! Upon the antichthon opposite the sun Where your better self said, "Thy won't be done And there's no way, no way out forever!" All eyes go nacre for that filthy lucre! The culprit's in the pulpit all the time! So when the blackbird's croaking out his vacant song And the locust's choking that it won't be long Well there's no way, no way out forever! Lyrics by Michael Bradley Copyright 2007 FurnaceSongs (ASCAP)

I will find you: Below black pastures of the seas in roiled, dead debris of dreams. I will find you: above the bleached and breaking skies where angels masturbate and cry. I will find you: Behind the trite atrocities and little pestilential blights that verge to obfuscate the pleas I use to verify your life. Through the ashes. Through the flames. Through the playgrounds of the plagues. With blackened tongue. and poker face. With yellow song. And sleazy grace. Through stained conscience. Deceiving guilt. With feigned science and massive will, will I find you. I will find you: Inside the pissant little jobs where my brief time is whored and robbed. I will find you. Inside the nighttime TV screen when all truth morphs into a scheme. I will find you. With my shiny hard control that serves to navigate that hole, that serves to navigate that cunt that tells the hunters where to troll. Through the mission of the missile, through the stagnant, skeletal sperm. Through the bottom of the bottle, through the wisdom of the worm. Through the convoluted heart, to its dessicated core, through the pulsing inner ordure, glowing, seething at the source of the viscera and turmoil, of the turbulence and gall, from the vessel's deepest regions, from the fundament I call; from the fragile architecture of our tragic machinations for the luminous director of our gory copulations. A humiliating mantra, yes, but I cannot disguise the viral quagmire of my hatred and fecal tunnels of my lies: I will find you. I will find you: For the holiest of chores is, was, and always will be war. I will find you: Upon the entrailed battle field, where your name was first revealed. I will find you: Beneath the bloody, spongy trees, beneath their gnarled, arthritic roots, among the earwigs and the maggots and the moaning mandrake shoots. Through honey hives and larval apples where the networks come undone, to the smiles of knives and scalpels, steel urethras of the guns. From expulsion from the garden--go forth and multiply the carnage: A bloody exodus is trodden through red grass into the furnace. Through holocausts and genocides; mass murders, rampant suicides; extermination, immolation, constant executions, fusillades. Through bombings, burnings, butchery; through lootings, lynchings, shooting sprees, through wholesale slaughter, massacres: the agony. The apathy. The screaming mouths of mothers name the infants that they lost but when I name you will I know you when you're my neighbor on the cross: Will I find you? Will I find you? Will I find you? Will I find you? I will find you. Lyrics by Michael Bradley Copyright 2007 FurnaceSongs (ASCAP)

Well it's a horror of flowers that wreathes the room in the Sago Mine. In the Sago Mine. The old floorer tallied hours; you joined the queue in the Sago Mine. In the Sago Mine. I heard a rumor of a war. Just more to rue in the Sago Mine. In the Sago Mine. I'll take a brief and harried ride, and then subside in the Sago Mine. In the Sago Mine. Well there's an absence of design, so false bells chime for the Sago Mine. For the Sago Mine. And there's an absence of a king, so false bells ring for the Sago Mine.

Once a flayed and flaring vision, well it alit upon my sill! It sang of swine in rancid wine, and hearts-a-stewin in a still! I gave homage to the image, “I serve thee only unto death!” But she exhaled her exhortation, with fluttering eyes and flaring breath! “You’re a little behind on your tithe, brother.” So I slithered to the kitchen, with her a-bouncin’ on my spine! I said Did I neglect to mention that I’m erecting you a shrine!? Well it’s a glorious inculcation, built with steerage from above! To deflect the inculpation that I can’t bear your grisly love! But she said: “You’re a little behind on your tithe, brother.” Yeah you’re a little behind! Don’t forget what you signed! When all the terms were defined – what is yours, what is mine! And now your tithe is your time! You can watch it unwind my brother! “You’re a little behind on your tithe, brother.”

I lost my faith. I can't believe it. I lost my place in heaven above. If God is love. If God is love. What am I? What am I? I lost my way along the way. I stared at the signs for some kind of proof. If God is truth. If God is truth. Then why would I lie? Cause I want to be the king. Look at my eyes -- they want everything. To sing, to shout of things that matter. But I sink and drown in shallow waters. Yeah I want to be the king. Soar high and wise above my underlings. But my fuselage flies through mutinous skies and all my grand designs demand my demise. So I lost my faith. I can't retrieve it. This life is a trial. And I'm the defendant. If God is vengeance. If God is vengeance. Then we all have it coming. Well we all have it coming. We all have it coming.

Burned the heart right through the cage I burned the act and I burned the stage Burned the plot and I burned the script I burned our house our home sweet crypt Burned the tables,burned the wares I burned the mantle and I burned the stairs Your sloe-eyed cat so cruel and grey Did not expect that auto-da-fe! Well I burned the harvest! Scorched the earth! And I burned the factum of my birth! I gasolined the garden that you left Its nurtured sod was fraudulent! Those bright wildflowers that you grew Well they were meaningless - I torched them too! I burned the tomes up row by row The family bible - first to go! Well I burned the ledgers, cooked the books And all your pictures' burning looks! Well I burned the harvest! Scorched the earth! And I burned the factum of my birth! I molotov'd the mattress of your tryst The snakes in there uncoiled and hissed! Well a satin bed's satanic sheets - they generate amazing heat! I piled your dresses onto the chair I smiled and torched the whole affair! Well I burned the bedrooms,burned the kitchen I burned it way past recognition! And I burned our holdings, burned our records! And both our gold rings and all our treasures! Burned that empty bassinet. And for all I know, it's burning yet.

Hey John my ear's inclined Filled with the cryptic script you prophesied Hey John did you divine that I would have a doubt for every single sign? Hey John, bless the wine Hey John it's a hell of a climb from the root of all evil to the fruit of the vine When they buried the treasure in a shallow mind And every tiny pleasure is a form of suicide But at the bottom of the barrel lies the reason for the gun Cause the season of peril starts the day that the sun at the top of the morning shows no warning not to turn to the bottom of the bottle for the wisdom of the worm! Hey John, pass the wine. Hey John you say I'll be left behind said my impotent rage had left me blind but maybe my cage just made me redefine what I need to glean between the lines Oh later on John, later on brother I'd rather sit in my cell and smother So pocket your apocalyptic holocaust there's no divinity in a double cross And at the bottom of the barrel lies the reason for the gun Cause the season of peril starts the day that the sun at the top of the morning shows no warning not to turn to the bottom of the bottle for the wisdom of the worm!

I’m only gonna say it once When they snuff out the fire that resides in my lowly core When they expel me from paradise and toss me in a heap at your door You take the hand of a man who has soiled a grand design Whose blood is contraband where the veins and vines intertwine Well it breaks my heart every time! Every time. And where my life is reduced to smoke and riddle Would you be my wife? Would you be my widow? Every moment we’re down on this ground I must murder a flower And tornadoes of grief with teeth will devour your power You put something inside something else that renders it wild To invert on itself till its soul surrenders its child Well it breaks my heart every time! Every time. I know I said I’d say it once, but I reconsidered. Would you be my wife? Would you be my widow?

Dread not, child of war! Pull to the lodestar! She leveled at me her blighting glance that burns my eyes more than the sun! But I must go down to the sea again for all that I have not begun! Roll black ocean, roll! Roll black ocean, roll! I dread not the icy climes, the hammered skin, the briny hide! Roll black ocean, roll! I must go down to the sea, I said, alee of this leacherous land! For flesh is a weapon of woman, I said, and heaven a weapon of man! I must go down to the sea, said I, for all that this land has forbade! Well I'll leave before noon and the moon's dead eye will guide me the rest of the way! Howling and holy and horribly glorious! Violent, radiant sea! Well I turn to your sermon, the fury that stole me from blind and obedient creed! Dread not, leviathan! Terrible paragon! Roll black ocean, roll! The wake is over and the litany is spoken, I must go now for the sea That breaks forever and never is broken will heal, mend and swallow me! Roll black ocean, roll! Roll black ocean, roll! Peace is poor reading and war is inspiring and as long as my bludgeoned heart beats I'll curse the births of they who forbade me from crying for my tears are made of the sea! As every lighthouse does black out every lover does back out of covenants stricken with me! Howling and holy and horribly glorious! Turbulent, radiant sea! Well I turn to your sermon, the fury that stole me from blind and obedient creed! Hail sea! Hail heresy! Hail blasphemy and blow! Roll free, dark argosy! Sweep over my blasphemous bones! Roll black ocean! Roll!

Si me puedes escuchar nino pequeno? Desde me celda abierto, esperando juicio? Si me puedes detener la mano por un corto tiempo? Debajo del cielo cerrado? Through the copsewood I roam Through birches of bone And the wind verily moans, “Will you find her?” Over brake and shaw, now the wind guffaws, “See he once blind, now blinder.” And a lonesome crow, like a king deposed From his throne half a mile to the sky Seems an ill portent, still I can’t relent I must call her name ‘til I die. Estela. Estela. It’s a universe all coiled and cursed. And it just gets worse, where I’m concerned. Still I’ll trod and I’ll trudge through the sod and the sludge And I’ll leave no stone unturned. For I know she’s laid in a lonely glade In the mist, with my name on her lips Waiting for my kiss, for to make her leap From her sleep – I know she sleeps. Estela. Estela. Estela. And the pines they grow and they loom and glow I know they conspired to hide her But still I see my Estela, borne amongst the boughs. Still I see my Estela. That’s all this life allows.

Where treads the dread traveler now? There’s a shade and it’s a crossing your threshold You saw the world open wide on the other side of your door What dreads the dread reveler now? Where the river harbors a fossil You saw the sun through a gauze 'til you found a loose stitch and you tore Undrown yourself Your empty hands hold a boundless wealth And if freedom is a prison It is because it isn’t Uh huh Uh huh Don’t seem so bedeviled now because it’s four o’clock in the morning and marked on the eye is a well-clothed whore on the buy So god-damned dissheviled, wow But you finally took stock of your blessing Can't cleave to a dream of just leaving those bags behind! Undrown yourself! Your empty hands hold a boundless wealth! And if freedom is a prison, it is because it isn’t! Uh huh Uh huh Oh, undrown yourself! Your empty hands hold a boundless wealth! And if freedom your is a prison, it is because it isn’t! Uh huh Uh huh Undrown yourself! Your empty hands hold a boundless wealth! And if your freedom is a prison, it is because it isn’t! Uh huh Uh huh.