PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
PJ Harding
I should have known with the tarot cards I had
Celtic cross reading that I’d go mad
Slow to grow slow to let go
All I have now are dreams where you scream no
And in these dreams I bend her over sinister
She disappears before I can finish her
I awake in the charnel grounds to the
Black witch and her moaning sounds
The coven howls as I raise up her skull
Their serpent tongues start chanting babble
I spit on myself and call it ran and I
Drew your sigil but you never came
These songs are about lonely nights
It's a guise, meanwhile
All the scripture have lied to me
Hear the birds sing tragedy
I’m stuck in bed with your specter
Floats above me a hell projector
Oh oh how low can the psyche go
Kissed a pipe underneath the mistletoe
Crestfallen and I can’t get up I’m
Drinking lithe from a foil cup I’m
Snorting lines of angel ashes
Applauding fatal car crashes
Deny my soul its perfect freedom
It’s just more fun to be a demon
Lose, lose, lose, lose