*/----------Lord of the Flies segue----------*/
He ain't right in the head if you can follow what I mean
Ain't much of a conversationalist but I know it's fine...
Can't suffer lawless bondage, The Lord of the Flies

"Au clair de la lune,
<---By the light of the moon
Mon ami Pierrot,
<---My friend Pierrot
Prête-moi ta plume
<---Lend me your quill
Pour écrire un mot."
<---To write a word.

/*---------- Lyric starts here, I hate how Bandcamp formats this ----------*/

All hail the demagogue who buggers your belief
Crunching through your bones in the gnashing of his teeth
No one will ever say you weren’t committed to the cause
Gave yourself over to caresses of his claws

Don’t you never mind unraveling the yarns he spun
Better believe he’s walking ‘round shrouded as the Son
He ain’t St Paul’s messiah, he’s the wolf inside the door
Can’t you hear him howling as he shits across the floor

Made my way back now I’m the demon in your head
No, I won’t stop laughing because irony is dead
All the sex appeal of a rotting piece of meat
Thought we were the savior we’re the junkie on the street

Morbid as it is it’s a satisfying job
Chewing up the dregs of a never present God
Pour us all a whiskey bring out beloved dead
Things are looking batty in the belfry of my head

Losing all my focus let’s dress you in the flag
Know I saw you dancing on that blood entangled rag
Lose yourself in ecstasy, we’ll dance a jig in Hell
Exterminations start at the tolling of the bell

Made my way back now I’m the demon in your head
No, I won’t stop laughing because irony is dead
All the sex appeal of a rotting piece of meat
Thought we were the savior we’re the junkie on the street

Based upon the author’s constant failure to explain
Lost him at the club they say he loves to make it rain
Lucifer is weeping and Jesus loves his blow
Instagramming new Gods with hashtags for the old

The apocalypse is calling the light is flashing red
Don’t think I’m gonna answer I’ll party rock instead
The clicking of the rotor it fascinates the ear
Patience in the dialing, the signal isn’t clear

Made my way back now I’m the demon in your head
No, I won’t stop laughing because irony is dead
All the sex appeal of a rotting piece of meat
Thought we were the savior we’re the junkie on the street

While signifying nothing I rage against the light
Flexing paper muscles over liquor sodden night
Thirsty for destruction my gullet pining still
Here there was a telling of naked kings and broken wills