The Spider

WARNING: Flashing Images/Eyestrain A paranoid walks into a bar alone. He says "A scotch for me thanks - and a round of shots for them." From a yet-unnamed, yet-unfinished album, releasing on a yet-undecided date in the future. See you then. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ LYRICS: I spoke to the spider today. He wore that same sickening face. He spoke in his typical, condescending, inescapable way. I asked about the gleams in the trees, and whether they were looking at me. The spider just smiled and skittered fast, just past my periphery. I spoke to the spider today to see what he might have to say. The eyes that don't meet mine were scanning down and around at their prey. He laughed and he laughed till he choked. Through that vile, webbed smile, he spoke. He said "I see you've seen them – I see the facade finally broke." I said I can hardly take it. There's shadows where it should be vacant. "The hoard prefers to traverse discrete and inblatant." How do you stay complacent when the darkness shifts and shakes and breaks my hold? I don't think I'll make it... "You've drawn your bath, now go on, take it. Drown in the poisoned, webbed, bilic cold." Out in the distance, barely out of sight. Masters of quiet persistence, in the corner of the back of your mind's eye. You're the new item. "The new meat looks tasty." This is the Us vs. Them. Trade humanity in for the feeling that you're earning your place amongst falling stars, falling far, falling hard. The middle distance guards and obfuscates every face, but I know they're lying in wait. What's the thread count? Every line's a bait. Webs upon webs spread on out. Venom lines each word they say. Don't buy their lies. Sleep with one eye open. They run wild, day or night, and they're waiting for the perfect blindside. Hairy hides. Eight eyes snide. They're all open wide, dead inside. You can try, but they'll find where you hide, and when they do, they'll chew and tear you through. And then what will they find? Stay quiet. Move light. Don't cry, lest they smell the tears dry. I can hardly take it. Upon my flesh feast necrophages, carving through ribbed cages. Where there should be patience, hatred makes its home and breaks my hold. Don't make a move, now! Don't adjust your breath. Don't let the spiders find out that they're preying on fears reflected. Smoke and Illusion, do what you do best! Stoke and incite delusion. Give 'em what they think they want and then run so fast, run so far, and don't turn around. Fangs abound like a hound. Chased through town till you're down, over and out; until your screams ring loud. God, why? My eyes are so tired. Can't I sleep well, just for one night? I can hardly take it. My psyche's spiked and masticated. See the spiders begin invading. I guess they're tired of waiting. You want your shot? Then come fucking take it. I won't fold. Take your bite, then aim it. Watch me tense, and twitch, and seize to keep my hold.