Gameshow Host

We're playing ghosts in the graveyard Frozen in eight bars Now you're hoping to make ours x2 [Mictlan] I splinter these wood teeth on a silver tongue Sing hymns to sinners and sit in when the dinner's done Dirt on the collar Butcher Blood on the cuffs My good foot's in a grave The other one's a leg up No lady o' luck I ain't stuck in her "lap of luxury" No fast tracks or slow ones either Detached from suffering The mask is under me like the past is under me My own conscience will be the first and last thing to fuck with me The Boy met the Man and the ways of the World Ain't it a peach? Nah, dig deep, it's a pearl Sold on solitude like my soul is solid gold We told them soldiers to hold But never showed 'em a common goal Don't follow robots in a suit and tie And don't trust robots on a soapbox with a "SHOOT ME" sign I see they drew the line Bang bang I walk it like Cash and all you do is divide [Sims] So I see you've got your war paint All suited up Shoot 'em up You drill it until the core breaks Chew 'em up, use it up, then you move the rub So leave 'em like the people in your life The Desert Eagle is your life Your pride drives drove you to nowhere Now you're stuck, feathers ruffled in the cold air Another scuffle Bad company Can't cut it clean so use the hollow tips Pass the poison and swallow it with glass Followed with a laugh for all the holograms that passed as real Now all that solid land has got a plastic feel So take another drag of the smoking gun and bolt Your story's fabricated though you spoke it under oath Gameshow host [Hook] We're playing ghosts in the graveyard Float Frozen in eight bars Choke Now you're hoping to make ours Cry for you If I were you I wouldn't hope We're playing ghosts in the graveyard Hide Frozen in eight bars Die Now you're hoping to make ours Hope for you If I were you I wouldn't try [Cecil] Twenty-five Medium well-rounded with a working man's halo I served five years in the circus And I'm about to land pay-roll But some swear I'm hell-bound Along with the serpent and the rainbow But I ain't working for the devil Or searching for no angel I'm working all the angles in this book of human languages I let the world I know graze the lips of that palm reader She's calling me the crying uncle Saying I'm so blind that I'd cuddle With a serial time-killer who leaves her victims with a sign of struggle I might get shuffled in to that haunted house of cards But I'll just sit there Playing with the queen of hearts It's so different than being in a crowded bar Saying "you play the wounded fish, and I'll be the shark" Alligator Half man Getting back to nature with an eight-track Tascam Task at hand I mean flask-in-hand Leaving one set of tracks in the sand And no tracks in my arms [Hook]