Televators

Just as he hit the ground
They lowered a tow that
Stuck in his neck to the gills
Fragments of sobriquets
Riddle me this
Three half-eaten corneas
Who hit the aureole
Stalk the ground, stalk the ground

You should have seen the curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Stained walks crutch in hobbled sway
Auto-da-fé, a capillary hint of red
Only this manupod crescent in shape has escaped

The house half the way
Fell empty with teeth that split both his lips
Mark these words
One day, this chalk outline will circle this city
Was he robbed of the asphalt that cushioned his face
A room colored charlatan hid in a safe
Stalk the ground, stalk the ground

You should have seen the curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Stain walks crutch in hobbled sway
Auto-da-fé, a capillary hint of red
Only this manupod, crescent in shape has escaped

Pull the pins (pull the pins)
Save your grace (save your grace)
Mark these words (mark these words)
On his grave (on his grave)
Pull the pins (pull the pins)
Save your grace (save your grace)
Mark these words (mark these words)
On his grave (on his grave)
Pull the pins (pull the pins)
Save your grace (save your grace)
Mark these words (mark these words)
On his grave (on his grave)

You should have seen the curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Stain walks crutch in hobbled sway
Auto-da-fé, a capillary hint of red
Everyone knows the last toes are always the coldest to go