Transatlantic Foe - At The Drive-In

pet sounds filling pet peeve void’s

black and white tv with the sound turned down

is it mono or stereo?

lending aneurysm satisfaction in the

fruitless gaze of your mona lisa lazy smile

trick ourselves in portable stanzas

black russian throated on this

guillotine cancer

how steep we are

but there’s just no telling

just no telling

savion is under heel clicking

morse code through movie stills again

the sky had blackened with carrion birds

pinstriped suits and cigarettes tapped danced

through the tepid burlesque

their mouths were parched with excess thirst

bridge and chorus candy curse

still they snag through the strepthroat verse

pet sounds filling pet peeve voids

black and white tv with the sound turned down

like breathing blood through lungs of czar’s child

if i had a dollar for every plot that you made

in this bed of nails you make

how steep

how steep we are