LYRICS : I Miss The Zoo



I miss the drunk 
I miss the fiend 
I miss the simplicity of addiction 
And the scene
I miss wandering aimlessly 
In half-dead sewers with rats for eyes 
Chewing on forgiveness 
And the will to apologize
I miss the return of no return 
As I burn in avalanches
Of white snow and yellow cocaine 
I miss talking to brick walls
While following the grain 
And human dolls as I plagiarize myself like a dummy
Stuffed with counterfeit money 
For Cairo and black honey
I miss illusions begging to be chased 
Even as they disappear into me (erased)
Until there is no one or nothing but the chase 
And a powdery ghost with no face 
(Or faith)
And the woman of my dreams disappearing without grace 

I miss the zoo (x3)

I miss evolving into a cloud 
Of blue marijuana blown from the lips 
Of hookers and pimps 
As they shake each other down 
In alleys for the dammed but mighty 
With no one but the weak around
And the beautiful unsightly 
I miss numb Neanderthals marching
In rows of living dead 
From my wisdom teeth to Spain and back again (in my head)
I miss salvation in syringes and angels of mercy 
In blooms of smoke numbing rain
Which drinks when thirsty
I miss glasses full of spirits 
Who without tongues speak to me of Napoleon’s wild nights 
I miss staying up for days and becoming a psychic pretzel
Flying kites
Chewed on by a Zulu heading with toads to Mars 
A mysterious prison
And one without bars
(at least those kind of bars) 

I miss the zoo (x3)

I miss waking in the arms of strangers 
Like puppies just born in the pound to a dead mother with eyes sealed shut 
Looking for a tit to suck 
And other dangers 
When the night before laughter was our only pursuit
Even as knives carved up our backs 
And demons sat like Buddhas eating fruit
Meditating on hate forever in our minds 
I miss exposing even my bones 
And the need that rewinds
Even my burning home 
Even my gutted inner child 
Even my dead grandfather 
Beneath the ground that's wild
Even my criminal family 
Even my weed whacker thoughts 
Whipping a thin plastic string
To cut the ears off others 
As I sing
I miss van Gogh's revenge
I miss his nightly binge 
I miss spiders surrounding my bed 
And lifting me as if an effigy 
Or a dead king 
A prophet of doom 
A Jesus for the apocalypse 
Wearing dirt like perfume
Or a mother for Satan 
Or ghost for all the children of abuse 
Taking me into the fire 
Watching me burn 
Like a goose
As they sing 
In spider voices 
There goes creation 
There goes the moon 
There goes the butterfly
Wanting a cocoon
I miss being a bloom 
And a goon
Waking up too soon in the afternoon
A doctor of regret 
Hanging onto guitar strings in tune
And hanging by a belt 
Wrapped around some pipe to nowhere and felt
My lips, too, wrapped around 
What appears to be stained glass
As religious figures dress like rocks with class 
Burn into gas
To the center of my brain 
The euphoria of dying and being born all at once 
While wearing the hat that reads “dunce”

I miss the zoo (x3)




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