The Mars Volta - Whip hand

when you leave the night on
contagions bind your double speak
malice tends to choke my father’s grip
but his hands are always clean
walk towards the light
convalesce your fetish in me
you make me older
swatting flies in the vaseline

I’m not getting any better
in this plot of dormant wakes
the thorns decipher, speak serrated
from the figure of an eight

THAT'S WHEN I DISCONNECT FROM YOU

no turning back now, too many shovels past the rubicon
must I desecrate it?
why can’t you tell me where you’ve gone
christened to die
paranoia as hoaxing device
just when i find out
moira draws the moth to fire,

where the bluest burn of spirits
draws the stem of hyacinth
you will hardly ever hear it
because the muzzle always fits

THAT’S WHEN I DISCONNECT FROM YOU

I’m a land mine, I’m a land mine
so don’t you step on me, don’t you step on me
cuz I’m a land mind, I’m a land mine
and I can blossom in the pedals of an E.C.T. (Electroconvulsive Therapy)

THAT’S WHEN I DISCONNECT FROM YOU