For the chance you turn away, taking leave of your new found senses, a risk you need to take, lured away under false pretences, written in your face, caught between a rock and a hard place analyse this mystery, re-define your history, confiding in a new-found friend, throwing caution to the wind methadone like honey yields a satisfying dream, hungry fools will reach out for the riches never seen between the long and shorter sighted, slighted, slipped away again, putrefied and then distilled, temptation for the weaker-willed, to pace the race; adrenalin, too late to fake refrain, echo-forming patterns form a matrix-maze of hexagons, interlocked in chemistry and slipped away again, honey taps into the hidden senses, rots the core of the innermost defences, motion through a liquid floor, concentric circles open for demands and desperation cries just a second taste, an axe to crack the social mould, a market-place for selling souls, supplies surprise behind the eyes and pockets lined with gold, victims without circumstance emerging from a lifeless trance, beleaguered from the multitude, stripped of all but pride, stumble, fall reach-up and crawl, hands are scratching at the wall, the rotting stench of fallen flesh of all that’s gone before, honey taps into the hidden senses, rots the core of the last defences, eats away at the very essence total mass decay.
© 1994 Lyrics by N.Thomas. All rights reserved.