La Fuga Lyrics

Not a damn thing to do today

No money on my books, feedbag out of hay

Swatting at the flies and I joke with the pets

Drink twenty beers and I smoke cigarettes

When I get past the initial panic grip

Maybe pull out a pencil and a manuscript

Then complete a concerto of garish hell clips

Guess I'll just try to avoid the parallel fifths

Fingers replaced with bees bumbling

Touching stupid buttons on a dumb drum machine

Then I guzzle down acid tabs, crack, and greenies

To make myself sound like bach or paganini

You need a big bang man I'll light the fuse

But if you want a melody man I'll write the fuge

No ego, funny impotence

Shrouded by competence in twenty instruments

Be sure to call bluff on the bleeding bone

You'll want to resolve up from the leading tone

Be sure to raise that seventh in a minor key

Be sure to blaze that meth in with your wine & cheese

Make it all fit like a game of solitaire

Stab yourself in the leg, rip out all your hair

Scream it out and kick the table legs in

End on a perfect or a plagal cadence

If I don't cause my own death with veins open

Or sit around and go deaf like beethoven

I'll probably end up in debt like Tchaikovsky

Or in a grave tryna fight the flies off me

I know I'll never be a camille saint-säens

But I really would at least like to feel great once

If I can't make it happen the way that I wish

Then I'll just go out like David koresh