Return to lyrics

Butterfly

At the last outback, near the edge of the line where the hologram bandits run. All the stained-glass gods sing a digital hymn in the shadow of things to come. The Amphetamine Queen of the Broken Hearts on a mirror of silver swans with her Jigsaw Christ and the Chemical Pope In a dream boat floating along. Banshees howling on the wind they ride Ten feet high and I’m following the butterfly. Ain't no reason and there ain't no rhyme. Ten feet high and I’m following the butterfly. Mixing tea leaves up with the medicine man through the tunnels that bend your mind. All the wind-up boys and mechanical girls plugging in to the end of time. It’s the bottom of the ninth in the house of cards picking sides where you stand your ground. But the pyramid schemes as the pendulum swings and the pillars come crashing down. Spell bound seeker sitting mesmerized. Ten feet high and I’m following the butterfly. Sideways speaker in a suit and tie. Ten feet high and I’m following the butterfly. I made a pact with the Devil on a lonely road. He was sitting on a mailbox, eyeing my soul. So, I sealed my fate in an envelope and now I’m juggling the fire that the future holds. 

There she was. Out of the ordinary like a stoned trapezoid; playing with imperfections against the grain; writing the next level of the post hip prologue, where sense made nothing, and all-consuming apprehension shuddered the horizon. In the midst of smoke ring ballerinas zigzagging along the curtain of infinity, Sandman dreamscapes whisper ethereal rhapsody among the renegade graffiti. Where street side junkies map the tragic outcome of ambition, silhouettes dance around the sundials, misty eyed and delicate, revolving hand-in-hand as twilight drags, tugging on your sunken face again. All is lost, Tinker Bell, all is lost. Stay pretty like a mushroom cloud and keep on pushing the limits straight on ‘til morning.