Lyrics
A CACOPHONY OF NEAR-FATAL MISTAKES:
(Or: Jury Recital, Lead Sheet In Hand)
I am a pathetic match peddler
With a bare face and shaky hands
Uncertain of what’s supposed to happen
Pushed forward and confused, a
Tumbling nonsequetorial tragedy
In progress, grating and filled with
Sickening gut slackening fear as I
Am instructed how to beg,
Then it starts and I am the
Skull shattering king of ultimate carnage,
A cloak of carrion, the mask of fury,
I revel, liquid, melting
My fingers flying as grist and sinew
I create a fray, a living maw
And I war desperately, giving birth
Through frantic adjustments
And continuous preemptive saves
As I become a cacophony of near fatal mistakes.
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