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lirik lagu hb0 – graham smith

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hbo has nothing on the show
i have planned for tomorrow
they’ll have to close the roads
and it’s true you know
it’s who you know you know
and what you know about them
more than what you say around them
that controls the flow

you’re like jasper cropsey
on a mountaintop
the river rushing out beneath you
so they called you “hudson hawk”
they deny you what you want
they will try you, they will trump you
they will cry until you crumble
they may dry you out or drug you

but they’ll never injure you
until the devil gets his due
yellow mixed with blue tints
the plastic you live through
and it’s blasphemous ‘cause it’s true
the rest is up to you

so take it slow, no need to race me home
i’ll have candles waiting, oh
how their penumbrae fill this empty house
with ghosts whose reedy moans echo off your meaty bones
i mean, it’s nothing, sweetie, oh
how death becomes me when i need to be alone

and i’m not quite human, that much you can see
but i’m less “abomination” than “perverse unsightly creep”
and my grave is five feet deep underneath a nice oak tree
and i rent it out on weekends ‘cause i just like feeling free

but now cathedral ceilings are falling
we see the beauty in all that’s appalling
but see here, my darling:
the pictures we’re drawing are worthless unless
we take razors to arms and forego kin and food
‘til our patron approves and we’ll shake, wince, and brood
as the impulse inches through every vein and molecule
to make us cede the truth
but you can take it like you’re used to it
don’t let me limit you, do it, do it
save your soul for when the devil takes his toll
you can question every rule but you’ll still fail like henry fool
on hbo

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