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• Artiste: Phish
• Titre: Chalk Dust Torture
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Come stumble my mirth beaten worker I'm Jezmund the family berzerker I'm bought for the price of a flagon of rice The wind buffs the cabin You speak of your life Or more willingly Locust the Lurker Confuse what you can of the ending And revise your despise so impending 'Cause I soak on the wrath That you didn't quite mask I'm getting it clearly through alternate paths Or mixed in with the signal you're sending But who can unlearn all the facts that I've learned As I sat in their chairs and my synapses burned And the torture of chalk dust collects on my tongue Thoughts follow my vision and dance in the sun All my vasoconstrictors they come slowly undone Can't I live while I'm young? But no peace for Jezmund tonight I plug the distress tube up tight And watch what I say as it flutters away And all this emotion is kept harmless at bay Not to educate somebody's fright