O Sacred Head
To the horror of satan sea
Listen
To the guns of superman
Well I say
Return to a platinum stranger
Hooked on
The enemy under your skin
Panic
Despite the heart of stone
Doomsday
For all the beautiful people
Hey I know what I want now
And it's right in front of me
And I know how to get it
The good things in life are
Always free
Landscape of greed and hate
It keeps me going
Victim of what's inside you
Outside of truth
Only hurts now when I laugh
Live by fire
Forever is a long long time
War is hell
Hangin
Songsmith
A writer like a blacksmith-forging works of iron
The jagged edges tempered into solid scripts for hire
Solitary craftsman at his console merging audio discrete
An ever changing soundscape sets the stage; the twains shall meet
in a union strong
Just like a working stiff
He is a Songsmith
In a strange synthesis
"Restoration" announced
It's the new riffs that count (no mainstream bore playing 13/4...)
Break out of silence-complete the curve
The Songsmith maintaining his avant-garde nerve
Innovation his palette-the urge and the test
Adrenalin flowing, he can't even rest unless-
Harmonic elements and special fx
conform to all his whims, an interpretive text
But he'd sing for the masses if he just had the time
with a vocal ideal and a long lyric line
He is a Songsmith
Break out of silence-complete the curve
The Songsmith maintaining his avant-garde nerve
Innovation his palette-the urge and the test
Adrenalin flowing, he can't even rest unless-
Harmonic elements and special effects
conform to all his whims, an interpretive text
And he'd sing for the media if he had equal time
with a vocal ideal and a long lyric line
He is a Songsmith
It's not too late for the Songsmith
The curtain opens for creativity
Give a backseat role to conspiracy
Hear the signature and the melody
of the author flow in polyphony
Will the writer last?
Will his trade survive?
In a world of commerce
Can he hope to thrive?
If his final sequence is not contrived
Keep him honest now
just to keep him alive
We need the Songsmith...