Friendly Fire

By Brzowski

On A Fitful Sleep

Released on July 26, 2011

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Spit the match out

Ignite the kindling in a mad house

So many bridges that'll take you home

And myriad roads that lead to Rome

Throw in hopes that someone catches

A neutral bitter in a natural state of antagonism

Agonized off of hands extended

Ears and shoulders led

Trust is a crutch for what?

Minnows all star in a shark-tank

Food bank held up in a shrinking [?]

Expiration dated and stamped

Awaiting deliverance, a way to make a difference

From the peanut gallery I can verify

Demarcations and divisions

It's simple

Even though I've always sucked at mathematics

You can't gun for peers or

Endeavor to split to the runs where pride hung

Unnoticed scattered silver

Stained with something the color of rust

You shit in the kiddie pool

But contemplate bigger fish

Like how to climb out of the sinkhole

And feed the kids

Pass a fist in politics, and parlor tricks, and nervous ticks

Revenge: the cold dish after dreams are foreclosed

The family was foretold

Songs of heavy trance and oxbows

The meanings danced on

While we juggled the freshest marrow bones


[Chorus x2]

The orphan who knows we're never coming home

A song for a ghost

Swallowed by friendly fire

If I should pass out, hyperventilate

Contemplate cash cows

You will not believe statistics

Shares are shrinking

We need to bicker and in-fight

Figure a way to precious hours

It takes money to make money

So, hate when they take up nut-hugging

Subtlety, shudder to think

Of that feasible possibility

Positively stuck and hamstrung

Not a favor untapped

Kindling fired up

Stoking a bonfire of the humanity

Selling our souls for under ten euros

And flat circles

Screaming a series of zeroes and ones

This thing weighs a ton and he shrugs

There isn't a finite amount of success or happiness

No poached by unicorn, friend

This is a crapshoot

Standing in the shooting gallery of fecal ballistics

But clear cut to the poets souls

And cloud contemplators

Fitting every bipedal hominid

In a cubicle and hooking up credit lines

To lungs and circulatory systems

Demystify that jackboot foretold like '84

So much potential in that one serious waste

Propagate myths of equivocation

Loving a whore does not a saint make, [?]

The scenesters looked surprised

When they watered down the fan-base


[Chorus]

Glass house music

Favoritism, 3rd person true

We're meeting

Do a punch through

Reporting views from the news

That's coming from too many first among equals

Hopefully bottled and moved

In a few and it's got a sequel

The root of evil is jealousy among the other six heads

Peeking up from the abysmal pit of playpen

When the day ends I only wanted to move

Simplistic of rewards softly spoken treasure trove

Moving shift like silk stuck to slow-moving stilts

On lady of malice

Is the ficklest bed this side of Hades

Babylon rides the beast

Smooches scarlet

Continue to follow on a habit

Better way to waste my life

Feel the bitterness cakes on

Corrosive like drool on the sleeves of old outerwear

Box with old men, pick up some dirty tricks and misery index

Codified and alphabetized so you can swallow your own lies

White as washed Tom Sawyer croaked and rolled over on its allies

Diaper soaked, checked the replicants for defect

Unfriendly munitions killing the innocent in a war of attrition

You can't eat, drink, smoke, spend, or fuck respect. I've tried


[Chorus x2]

Fecal ballistics in and friendly munitions...