Chalk Dust Torture
Come stumble my mirth beaten worker - I'm Jezmund the family berzerker - I'm bought for the price of a flagon of rice - The wind buffs the cabin, you speak of your life - Or more willingly Locust the Lurker - Confuse what you can of the ending - And revise your despise so impending - 'Cause I soak on the wrath that you didn't quite mask - I'm getting it clearly through alternate paths - Or mixed in with the signal you're sending - But who can unlearn all the facts that I've learned - As I sat in their chairs and my synapses burned - And the torture of chalk dust collects on my tongue - Thoughts follow my vision and dance in the sun - All my vasoconstrictors they come slowly undone - Can't this wait till I'm old? Can't I live while I'm young? - But no peace for Jezmund tonight - I plug the distress tube up tight - And watch what I say as it flutters away - And all this emotion is kept harmless at bay - Not to educate somebody's fright - chorus