Wild Stories

Wild stories for the harvest

We’ll ride them high and dry

Wild stories all around us

Psychopathic suicide

They eat the wild stories

Heaped with praise

Feeding the egos

That hungers through days

The people in the room

Are deaf and bemoan

The endless wild stories

The endless drone

How devious the mind

How devious the seed

How devious the motives

Of mythical being

The beauty of our voice

As it rings in our ears

The truth of the lies

Told through the years

Wild stories for the harvest

We’ll ride them high and dry

Wild stories all around us

Psychopathic suicide

If bullshit filled the ocean you’d be Neptune

If lies were made of gold you’d be rich

I never trust a hustler

Or the wild stories they pitch

Wild stories for the harvest

We’ll ride them high and dry

Wild stories all around us

Psychopathic suicide

Hear that voice

Hear its call

Hear its greatness

As it parades down the hall

There it is

That nervous laugh

There’s another wild story

Coming down the path

As we toil each day

In the cubic fields

We hate the voice that cuts

Like the scythe she wields

No hint of remorse

No sign of shame

Just doom to those

She chooses to name

Wild stories for the harvest

We’ll ride them high and dry

Wild stories all around us

Psychopathic suicide

Wild stories for the harvest

Wild stories high and dry

Wild stories, wild stories

Until the day she dies

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