From Bourbon to Bexhill,
It's murder, death, kill,
The Earth is like a ferris wheel we all just sit still.....
Satan's drill oil spilled all into my gills,
What a world, what a world we leave for children to rebuild.....
But that's another time, another project, another budget, another rhyme,
Another purpose, another circus, another clown car, another mind.
On the other line, I heard a voice that cried as if I hurt her soul,
The decision cut across my throat between my ears was surgical.
From 90 degrees vertical to a 180 flatline,
From all these and those I just wish I could take back that time,
You know the one, where you did the thing and you know you shouldn't of done that,
The pain was like a boomerang that karma always brung back
A woman scorned is a page torn, a bridge burned, et cetera
A picture's worth a thousand words so welcome to the cinema
In the words of Rex Mills, "the cemetery of love is filled with murder, death, kill."