Baltimore Blues

Baltimore Blues No.1 - Deer Tick

Kiss all your saviors goodbye

Offer them up to the dead

No kidding you know who's right

And whose got a price on their head

No doubt I'd sell you all out

For a pocket full of silver and gold

Way back when, when they made me one of them

Don't you know they're gonna' save my soul

I can't hang around with you like this my friend

Our time has come to an end

I can't play around with you no more

No, I'm seeing this open door

And I know you saw right through me

Afraid I'm taking you for a ride

But when you're dead you're dead

When you're gone you're gone

I got my conscience at both of my sides

I set out to disappear

And out there I found a new home

But listen Jack, you're on the wrong side of the tracks

At least now I don't have to walk it all alone

Can you hear the sound of the crawling flesh?

Now can you smell the burning desire?

This place is too small to hide

All the ghosts that's kicking around inside

What this town was entirely built upon

You can find it right between the eyes

Its a bullet hole that'll steal your soul

And roll you for your money and your diamonds

Chemistry, a bewildering force. Such a chameleon in its demise to appear out of the depths of life. To take over. To take over thought and dive. The depths of chemistry are not known. When you notice it, you’re already too far gone. It’s the attraction that needs no words, no cues, no hesitations. Yet here we are with all of those. There is no denying, the reason as to why, it’s a love that can’t stay. To be attainable is to defy time, fate and consequences. Enough with the logical truth, enough with the pretenses. What if you weren’t stuck on thought, what if you weren’t trapped by preservations, what if you let it unfold. There is a way to go about this, it’s unclear, it verges on uncontrollable. It seems distant, destructive and driven by selfishness. It’s wanting what you shouldn’t have. Not what you can’t, but what you are arguing yourself against. Free from morality, free from insanity. This type of self-corruptive denial is unforgiving. It plays on your mind like a Shakespeare story. Tragic makes the body of the story. The beginning is curiosity, the end.