1000 lies
Lydia Lunch / Thurston Moore
We hang our heads in the heavy house
With halls that scream a ling slow no
Dirty thoughts fall from my soul,
Heaped like clothes upon the floor
This night has a thousand lies
That burn holes in my petty head
Flesh creeps up all the wrong walls
It's my misfortune that you're suspicious
I could swear a thousand prayers and cast stone bibles into the sea
But my lifelines full of solitaire,yours is happy full of nothing