Prurient
Poinsettia Pills
I believe what you tell me
I listen to what you say
I pray that your eyes and mouth will shut
And your rigor mortis will relax
And you can go to sleep again
And wake in the morning
And brush the lime off your thin body
And fill your cadaver with wine again
And blood will fill your heart
And you can sing through your spiraling teeth
And that god awful whistling sound
That siren you call your voice
Will turn into God's forbidden music
And your suspended soul
Will stop rattling these wastebins
And slapping your cuffs along the bars
Holding out your cup for an extra splash of water
To soak the desert of your mouth
And soak up all the lime

Tell every tongue
Jesus is king
Tell all the world
Nail every tongue
The fire is slowly dying
I believe
I believe
I believe
I believe
I believe

I believe what you tell me
I listen to what you say
I pray that your eyes and mouth will shut
And your rigor mortis will relax
And you can go to sleep again
And wake in the morning
And brush the lime off your thin body
And fill your cadaver with wine again
And blood will fill your heart
And you can sing through your spiraling teeth
And that god awful whistling sound
That siren you call your voice