There’s purpose in a rotting vine,
There’s anguish in a glass of offered wine.
There’s darkness in her powdered beauty weeping
And there’s horror often, never seen creeping.
She feels something slightly a mist
As her disdain takes a drastic twist!
Friend or foe or sister dear, her eyes have
Turned black and her hellish intent clear.
As she slumbers
She dreams of death
Looking forward to whatever
Comes next.
As she muses over written tears
She slowly stirs, flesh and
Fear.
Cattails sweet, they smell of gloom
She’s not far, she’s hidden in the room
They know she’s mad, there is no doubt,
They try hard not to talk about
Her touch is cold, like mountain rain
Her sisters fear she’s insane!
The step mother spits and turns her back
Silent crows quickly claw and attack.
She plotted to take their very souls,
But instead, decided to just eat them whole.
Chop! Chop! Off with their heads
A stew made best, with the freshly dead.
Confused the step mother ask, ‘Where’s my girls?’
Nothing said, but darkness stirs,
Here’s a bowl— another bowl makes two.
They’re not far, now eat your stew!
A killer re-release of a rare solo post-punk LP from 1988 by the frontman of Taste of Decay and Garden of Pleasures. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 17, 2022