Bulimic Rainbows
There’s a place that we all used to go
It had sugar filled palm trees, and gumdrop paved roads
It had a water fountain that shot nothing but bliss
Never shot up any saviors into limp handed wrists
Sweet toothed ponies parade ‘round the block
Screaming “Oh! What fun is epileptic shock!”
Little Johnny, he’s now having a seizure
drawn up on the ceiling with his cyanide chalk
Can’t we see we’re the vultures
Run you children, run
There’s a place that we all used to know
Time stole that from us, cursed, perversed, sick show
Bulimic rainbows vomit all on the streets
Spewing candy coated corpses forth at our feets
Watch the licorice come out of their necks
as perfect pretty pinwheels do what they do best
Watch shiny licorice shoot right from their face
as perfect pretty pinwheels are never replaced
Can’t we see that we’re the faceless hiding in their beds?
Desecrate what they held sacred, not even for our gain
Brush off those self-righteous smirks, we’re animals in pain
Now don’t you cry kid, don’t say a word
Everything is going to be okay
Except little Johnny, ‘cause the respirators failing
and his hopes and his dreams how they crash all around
See, we’re one and the same, us and the poor kid
who put childhood memories in a box in the ground
Someone get me out of this hearse
I don’t want to go to bed
and if I die before I wake
At least it’s something you can’t fake
and there’s something in the closet
that I know is probably dead
It licks the walls red
Red red red red red…
