Voice Of Disrepair Lyrics
[Jenkins/Stevenson/Silverman]
Not exactly taciturn, he shared his bottle openly
Battered, banished, ill-remembered
Terrified of something seen
We grew to reek of martyrdom
And (our) mutual misanthropy
Certain pleasures taken from him
Never meant to want to be
Emptier known as a number
Lack of luck would not explain
His traveling for safety's sanction
"Standing on his head an always
Landing on his feet"
Casting blame and laughing
In facetious conversation
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Certain pleasures in return he
Never meant to want to be
Emptier known an a number
They found him cold this morning
They found him cold at dawn
