Hob
Written by: Miller Vaults
Cut the teeth from the gear
Street freak tethers
Tie it tight to the outer ear
Under all this bad weather
Portcullis barred austere
Behind crowns the devil
Where are all the rebels?
(Marked with locomotor ataxia)
Where is all the mayhem?
(Death, destruction, etcetera)
What's this epidemic?
(Must be coming after yah)
(Must be coming after yah)
Cut the teeth from the gear
Anything less won't settle
But boil up into stratosphere
And make good show for cattle
That line up at the movie premier
To lick shards of elsewhere
Where are all the rebels?
(Marked with locomotor ataxia)
Where is all the mayhem?
(Death, destruction, etcetera)
What's this epidemic?
(Must be coming after yah)
(Must be coming after yah)
Cut the teeth from the gear
And show us your metal
Constrict smiles of cashiers
Into Styrofoam and muddled
By mothers malted tears
Go wonder what's the trouble
(Must be coming after yah)
(Must be coming after yah)
Every mouth a photo of a scream,
Anchors without weight, even as we dream