belated to this point: a late reception for the late se├▒or
(it's half past ten, the kids just fidget) but wait there is still more:
one look tells the story, a ghost town like this church,
the aisles of which are strewn with the notes to an endless dirge,
has last been seen when two pint mugs of creamy sassparillo,
in establishments that offered beds made not for sleep, and pillows,
were slid across a bar the dust of which was inches thick
enough of stupid tangents, lets get back to it and stick.
as i mentioned once before, the seats were all covered in dust
and the man who's date i missed had missed out on feeding lust
as the silence mourns his death, and the morning soon will come,
i've had too much to drink and now i think it's time to hum . . .


i've made an error in the writing of this wry, sarcastic song
you see, i started in the middle, and i know that that's just wrong
so here's to hoping i can fix it with this half-assed new beginning
cuz the last time that i saw you, neither one of us was grinning
it's the second time my memory has not quite served me well
i forgot the words to the half-assed new beginning as well
it's just as i was saying: well, i knew him more than they
but their numbers weren't too many; that's the start i meant to say.
but the point that you're still missing is that i miss you, and well
although i did forget him, you won't get the same taste of hell

what the fuck's this song about and why did i think i could sing?
apologies post mortem and the postal service blasting
as i drive myself, and driven, wind up losing my ambition
all the lies i've told myself have put me into this position

and the chorus to this song does not exist at all, you see
'cause what interests me is testing all your lyric memories
so here again with metalyrics (as i rhyme about the rhyme)
i end this song forsaken 'cause i'm frankly out of time.

A/N: the stresses are bolded