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Death To The Salesmen

from Fuck Death! by When There Is None

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lyrics

Badly fitting clothes
Awkward silence, sore jokes
An accidental ballet
Under all that hair
Hides a crazy, wild stare
“Shut up and play!”

Don’t want to sell
Some bloodless shell
Because all that we can offer is
Bleeding ears and sweat and spit
A loud, beautiful mess

A damp smell radiates
Clumsy clowns kill themselves
“Can I borrow your guitar?”
Broken dreams and strings
Forgot the replacements
As well as myself

Here we come as we are
A big, bright, shining pile of shards

Don’t try to buy what can’t be bought
Don’t try to sell what can’t be sold
Don’t want to buy, don’t want to sell

credits

from Fuck Death!, released May 1, 2020

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When There Is None Aachen, Germany

learned to see a light when there is none

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