Tin of Worms

Verse 1 [Jam Baxter] Coarse light and terror Hatch daily, die nightly Slipping life signs, he grip on a divine psyche Stored in a poor peasant War in his war essence Speed's nought to now in point four seconds Your precious world ain't healthy The scar tissue's towers burst Burden in the skies, with an ill-fitting cloud of dirt Skin snapping, white mounds of powder spurt out my shirt Spelling out the words 'Young and Foolish' underground A worse surgeon, swim clotted u-bends As that scoundrel, with a mouth full of waterboard, weapons, and a snapped scalpel Demonectomies that dawn on the background Full of cheap gaudy décor You get what you pay for, I guess Bad winner in botched operation shocker! Turn to every page for the full story and grace the horror Hover here, little ones, change the lock and bathe in honour Palatial squalor made possible, place your offer Verse 2 [Chester P] Speak with conviction Sparks from the friction Dark on your doorstep with prayerless redemption: Destiny's henchmen, faceless attractions Poverty soldiers, chasing the fractions Sinister reactions, closed in my captions Cane like Chaplin, cotched up backbench Posture is hunchback, full grown rugrat Died then I come back, survival or combat Rifles or contracts, lifelessly contact Contrasts melt fast, thoughts go beyond 'drat!' So clap, doh, cues voice of the locals Learnt when I didn't go school to be a spokesman Venom of a marksman, moved to advantage Scars to my eyelids, modern Will Scarlet Charming composure, dressed up and garnished Orphans of freedom, maidens and harlets Hook [Jam Baxter] Stand on a corner with a bulletproof smile Moon in my pocket, money to burn I got roots in the ground and my head's in the clouds Sun's on my dial and a new tin of worms Ghost birds sing from a nest in their grave North winds howl on a methadone sky My hand on my heart, where the truth's concerned With this bat out of hell and a new tin of worms Verse 3 [Jam Baxter] My, how plush porcelain doll skull's can break easy And fuck me, this train still parades creepy Screeching train doors sliding, better push forth Here's to the commuter that got his foot caught, splat! Good sport, didn't scream, penny for the bloodstain Some strange, hate-fueled rebellion in love's name That's raging on a bruck stage, the false wall falling Keeper of a tinfoil curtain, caught snoring Report him from a plastic chair, glued to an incendiary Mile high monument, a glutinous confectionery That looms in every rooms, so choose a suitable dispensary One small step from that human of the century award He saw glory in the futures of his enemies The flawed war stories from the students of dependency Sir, is that a centipede hugging a glass ceiling Or a scared pair of scorpions stuck in a jar breeding? Verse 4 [Chester P] Peace for the soldiers Tea for the homeless Hope for the hopeless Guarding a crow's nest, watching the progress Earth's like a hostage, held by its offspring Dying a slow death Thirteenth apostle, these are my gospels Native narratives, eyes that have watched you Words that can touch you, child of the flowers Mushrooms and ginger, praise to the powers Freedom's inside me, screams in excitement Freedom's for real, man, I'm talking of a triumph Me and these giants, standing relentless Throughout misadventures, call me the tempest Strength to the strengthless, preached in a temple Worshiping elements, life is essential Nurture your mental, learn from your mentors Sharpen your senses, change your dimensions Range over race lands, fresh from the basement Culled from the hatred, caused by the matrix Face my reflection, classless and aimless Nomads and vagrants, heroes and traitors Trenches and craters, death's a hiatus Hunt like hyenas, fight with your demons Talk with your elders, walk with your elders Talk with your elders, walk with your elders Hook [Jam Baxter] Stand on a corner with a bulletproof smile Moon in my pocket, money to burn I got roots in the ground and my head's in the clouds Sun's on my dial and a new tin of worms Ghost birds sing from a nest in their grave North winds howl on a methadone sky My hand on my heart, where the truth's concerned With this bat out of hell and a new tin of worms Candyfloss dreams as the roulette spins Gambler's eyes in the alcohol swirl Drifting beyond any chance of return With a handful of thoughts and a new tin of worms Ships capsised on a ocean of wine Pirates sing with a bottle full of rum: 'Yo-ho-ho,' from a state of no return With a handful of thoughts and a new tin of worms