Prelude to Pain

• The Killing Tree
• The Romance of Helen Trent

the voices carry still

across these dull great plains

growing louder everyday

sinking back to habits dying hard

your arms are so familiar

these wounds that time won’t heal

fester with hate so pick the scab

and turn the page

until the lion lears to write,

the hunter will be glorified

flip the switch

and here I sit on the outside

eight dollar haircut (fuck you)

these words are my leash

that I cannot untie

dragging meinto this night

cover my ears, but still you call my name

I will follow you (deeper into this night)

dim the lights and tighten this noose

I’ve lost myself in you

I won’t settle for anything less

not one if us immune