Arinn Dembo


Duty Calls

Golden glow...fading sun

Broken road...day is done

Walking home...all alone

Doesn't hurt...jagged stone

I can't tell you...what I've seen...

They can smell you...where I've been...

I'm so tired...day is done

Hurts my eyes...kill the sun...

CHORUS:

Duty calls...time for bed,

Iron walls...in my head,

Time to dream...time to fly,

I can't scream...I can't die.

Duty calls...

Golden glow...double sun

Now I know...too late to run

Shadows crawl...by the lake

Too far gone...my mistake...

Rise and walk...the silver sand

This must be...the promised land

Dry and die...stars that sing

Empty temple...yellow king...

CHORUS:

Duty calls...time to go

Curtain falls...feel the flow

Time to dream...time to fly

Time to touch the killing sky....

Thorazine

Bunny slippers, got my shot

Let my Mom wipe up my snot

I can't move--just watch t.v.

Wonder who

I used to be...

Eat my dinner, take it slow

Like waiting for a tree to grow

Try to think--but that's a pain

Fuzzy fingers

In my brain...

CHORUS:

But I need you...like a loaded gun

This vampire...loves the rising sun

You thrill me...like a shark attack

Just kill me...don't keep coming back.

Doctor says, I'll be ok

Maybe let me go someday

No one knows just what you did

On the altar

With our kid.

CHORUS:

I love you...like a loaded gun,

I need you...like the rising sun,

You thrill me...like a shark attack

I killed you...please stop coming back...

Betrayal

Our life begins, without any words

Sometimes we don't even breathe

They slap us, screamin', play the fool

Last call, last call, everyone out of the pool.

The lies come down

Like blinding rain

Mother's milk, tender wing

Love you, love you

You sweet little thing.

We get a new skin,

Our life begins,

In fear and pain

Plain outrage, to be here again.

But we drink it down, we learn to forgive,

They teach us to live.

Van Gogh

Dream--dream in colors smeared

Color out of space,

Color out of place

Red that rips you ear to ear

And yellow that I fear.

Friends...won't...tell you what you wanna hear

So I guess that he must be a friend

Even though I lost an ear

I hear him singing loud and clear

And he'll be with me until the end.

CHORUS:

I've got this friend, you know, he makes me paint

My patron and my patron saint

And I try to love, I try to be

But it's no good--he smells it on me...

Smells it on me...

Leaves of grass-fields of grain

Black birds rise

To stain the skies

Crying out in pain

This is the last time

I raise the brush.

I give it up

I relinquish

All that I love...

CHORUS:

'Cause I've got this friend, who makes me paint

My patron and my patron saint

And I try to live, and I try to be

But it's just no good, he can smell it on me

Smell it on me.

Ran Away From Home

Ran away from home.

Tried to catch the train.

But it doesn't slow or stop

When it passes through this town...

I'd like to get away.

And find a warmer sun.

I don't want to hurt anyone.

Ran away from home.

Tried to catch the train.

But it doesn't even slow down

When it passes through this town.

And even if I went, I would

Never be alone

No matter where I am

There I go.

CHORUS (to be screamed aloud):

Hastur!

Ia-shibboleth

Rek'yame! Col'kyamar!

Tuanta! J'kire cha!

Ia! Shub-Niggurath!

Kiri'ay! Eleison!

I tried to run away...

I tried to go back home...

But there isn't any place...

Where I can be alone...

I sat down at the table...

I ate all I could hold...

Could be I'll get hungry, on the road....

My Bliss

I said I loved you-I lied.

I said I loved you-fuck, I lied.

I loved myself better than you,

Because of that, you died.

I love the jacket, I love my nurse.

I love my Master, love His curse.

I love my fucking medication

I love creamed corn and light sedation

And here I am-in bliss...

Here I am, in bliss

All I've got now is me

And funny thing....

It's you that I miss.

It's you I miss

It's you I miss...

Dr. Seuss' The Repairer of Reputations

(with sincere apologies to both Chambers and Giesel)

That Mr. Wilde!

That Mr. Wilde!

I do not like

That Mr. Wilde!

I do not like that

Mr. Wilde.

He has no ears

His eyes are wild.

But is that either here or there?

You’re right; it’s neither here nor there

Poor Hildred’s caught up in his snare.

He wants to wear the Yellow Crown:

Kill his doctor, paint the town.

What is in this biscuit box

Your cousin hides beneath his socks?

The biscuit box?

He thinks it locks!

He keeps within

This “safe” of tin

A crown of brass and cheap white glass.

Poor Hildred wants to be a King

He’d kill you for that shabby thing.

Would you? Could you? Kill him, too?

He means you harm – and Constance too!

I would not, could not, kill him, no.

You might have to, someday soon.

You may have to shoot the loon!

I would not, could not, harm one hair

Of Hildred’s head. Have a care

And put away his biscuit box.

After all, he thinks it locks!

Put his costume jewelry down;

Do not disturb his brazen crown.

I know my cousin means no harm

There is no cause for your alarm.

His doctor’s slain!

The man’s insane!

Can you see it now, Castaigne?

He is insane! As plain as day!

He wants to kill my fiancee!

I would not, could not see it then

Poor Hildred’s lost his mind again

And he’s far worse than years ago!

I was so blind! I did not know!

Will Constance and her father pay

That I did not send him away?

I never dreamed, in all my life

He’d run off with that kitchen knife!

Yes!

At the door!

There at the door!

Shoot him, shoot him at the door!

I would not, could not fire before

But now he stands at her front door!

But tell me, why you let him go?

I had to let mad Hildred go;

He’d run upstairs, she was below,

And if there was the slightest chance

That Hildred’s henchman, Mr. Vance

Had used Wilde’s knife to kill my love

I’d send to hell both men above!

But as it happened, all was well -

In less time than it takes to tell

I held her close, and blessed the man

Who’d thwarted Wilde’s and Hildred’s plan.

But what came next? Your cousin’s death?

Or is the man still drawing breath?

No, he is dead.

Strapped to a bed

And screaming for his diamond crown

With seven men to hold him down

That’s how my cousin met his end

A sorry tale you tell, my friend!

What of the dwarf that men called Wilde?

I did not like that Mr. Wilde.

He had no ears, his eyes were wild

He once claimed that he could repair

A man’s good name, were it not fair

The price he asked was very high.

Most men, like Vance, preferred to die.

Should we go into Wilde’s house?

Should we bring his cat a mouse?

We should not go into his house

His cat likes hunting Man, not mouse

But this is neither here nor there

There is no choice.

We’ll climb the stair.


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