Sick Man

Foetus

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    Lurchin' round the parking lot, a man possessed (of not a lot)
    Skin and bones and rings and crown, legs reach right down to the ground
    Swivel hips and loose lips. stab the dagger, turn it round
    His life's an open boo scribbled in his own blood

    His constant companion always at hand
    Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of sick-man

    Overcome by waves of lechery - one for you sixteen for me
    Kill the monkey on his back/he kisses big, he kisses black
    Profile of neanderthal/leaves his debris in the hall
    Pushover furniture-barroom brawls... takin' notes from toilet walls
    His victim screams - he has a ball
    The bigger the head the harder they fall

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    He lives a life of luxury, he lives a life of misery
    The entries in his diary are the entries of sick-man
    His constant companion always at hand
    Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of sick-man

    His pen's as mighty as his sword. bites off more than he can afford
    The torture-meister relishing - intimidating everything
    Typewriter rhythms drowning the newly acquired insecurity
    Gets in fights/stays up nights/rends and mends companion's tights
    Forcin' symptoms of his own disease
    A boy for you, black plague for me
    His constant companion always at hand
    Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of sick-man
    His constant companion always at hand
    Makin' entries in his diary... the diary of sick-man

    Blackheaded blackguard with a blackjack
    Laced his coffee with spoons of ratsac
    Hangs his trophies on walls of his place - hangs his carrots in front
    Of his face
    Lust and greed has swallowed him - tearing limb from hymn to limb
    He's worries how - he got a gun swallowed in his clammy hams
    All he got for christmas was a chip on his shoulder
    And a constant reminder
    Left companion in pool of blood - she had tried to make him taste his
    Own medicine
    Gone down dead end alleyway
    Hey sick-man
    Suck this, sick-man, eat hot lead... he's grinding - shaking - dancing dead
    Illegal entries in his diary... diary of sick-man

    His constant companion was always at hand... now she's an entry in the diary
    he diary of sick-man
    His constant companion always at hand... makin' entries in his diary
    The diary of sick-man
    Illegal entries in his diary... diary of sick-man
    Sick-man... sick-man... siiiiiiiiiick mmaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnn

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    Composición: J.G. Thirlwell

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