Lawrence Arms The Corpses of our Motivations Lyrics:
catching up in the basement that i call home.
dismantling discussions on a piss soaked
telephone. i'm all grown up. i've thrown up these
feelings lots before. you're sitting in the park
while i'm staring at the door enough self
mutilation. i've waterlogged and choked one
hundred beers, another week ensconced in
yellowsmoke i'm no devil, i just have these demons
keeping me awake, pushing on my go-leg, laughing
at cut brakes. the corpse of my motivation hangs
in the closet to the comfort of the grave. this
coffin's full of nails, rails and pipe and glass,
rotting under yellow growing grass. five in the
chamber and i'm flying through the air. i've tied
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my blindfold tightly, i'm cutting my hair. i'm a
bullet and a target, and i'm drenched in
splattered blood. i've learned my lesson one time
but once isn't enough. so dry your hands, wash 'em
clean of me. wave your victor's flag on your pile
of debris because when you die like a hero, you
live like a slave. i'd rather die to see it change
than live and watch it stay the same where the
corpses of my motivations hang on the gallows
over-ripe with shit like colostomy bags (pie
anyone?) there's a party in the woods and a dance
in city streets and a rumble down the avenue of
fifty thousand stomping feet. and the fire is
getting high, igniting sweaty powdered brows. and
if he hasn't saved you yet, he isn't gonna save
you now, ...and you're more beautiful than you
were on the day that we first met. my angel of the
not yet buried dead.
Lyrics: The Corpses of our Motivations, Lawrence Arms [end]