Entertainment For The Braindead

Dry Wood

Entertainment For The Braindead


My fingers are dry leaves
That fall from my hands
My body as frail
Like an autumn timberland
But my claws and teeth
As I dropped my defense
I have no more questions;
I have no demands.

My mind is a wasteland
Invaded by you
Make it your kingdom
Worth travelling through
Cut the trees, clear the country
Leave a permanent trace
Could make this land
A nicer place.

Turned on the heating
And locked up the door
It's the same old pattern
As the years before
The last little hedgehogs
Say when will you learn
That your bristles
Won't save you
When your demons return

Should change my old habits
Put on my new shoes
And walk towards
And not away from you

My mind is a wasteland
And I have no maps
Could you be a compass
To guide my steps?
Could you guide my steps?

Like birches I'm odd
And my shivering welled
My reason's the foliage
If the trunk is my guilt
Cut it down into pieces

And set me to flames
Make the brightest of fires
Out of my remains
And I'll burn for you
And warm your frozen feet
And I'll burn for you
And I'll burn for you
And melt your frozen feet
I'll burn for you
For you.

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