whose - septimus signus lyrics
septimus signus lyrics
[intro]
sly queasy
whose
[verse]
and still i hunt with my sword
time to cut all the cords
from the lovers remorse
and now i’m spinning in the train station
trying to remain patient
main staging
good with the strings like i’m clay aiken
yeah
i’m a man with a chick that he doesn’t deserve
i’m a man with some wits and i’m good with the words
i’m the last syllable when you utter your curse
don’t be surprised when i stumble in first
like lupin, pick the locks
on your secret box
trying to figure out exactly how your clocks
tick tock, man stop
i rant and ramble like septimus signus
you pant and scramble to find truths are fiction
[verse]
i sit upon the mountain top
decrepit and regretful
the bearded grumbling shepherd
both regressive and progressive
i hold them both, like yin and yang
the poster boy, deceptive pain
momentous joy, yet to obtain
my fingers stained, by lead and chains
laid out plain and simple: my intentions have been sinful
and this guilt i carry with me loves to talk to pad and pencil
sly gave me an instrumental; he’s to harsh of a critic
but in this game of p+wns and posturing, end up rather cynic
lying by omission: greater gifts have not been given
at the exorcism mixing with any who isn’t christian
i walk into the comic shop and leave with fine vixens
you write the worst verse on the posse cut like blimes brixton
times ticking, i’m tired of these blind visions
my own h+ll i created with asinine ambitions
minor setbacks lead to occupations
pills and potions like a mental patient
left pocket molded for a pale blue lighter
right pocket cluttered, spirit buds and loose write ups
if you think you saw me out and about, i could be anyone
facial identification impatient, i make a mess of them
electric with the flourishing words, like tesla/edison
songs could pull someone off that ledge, i work in medical
i loved a girl who wanted to fly to see her relatives
i should’ve known you can’t buy a train ride to heaven i’m
maladjusted, the jester never fails to entertain
garrulous, a baby man in both mind and frame
endlessness: the sets of the game
i’ll continue to play
without a quarter to my name
whose
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