Dr. Buss by Vestments

Fighting the urge
To let my hands slip
Feeling the need
To let go of my grip
They gave me this
They named me this
So I must keep up appearances
Waking in fright
But too lost to bury it
Freezing the cost
But burning the settlement
I may repent
I may resent
The knives
They keep me elegant
I’m the steady hand
The safety band
But I’m not what I appear to be
Take off your face
Remove your heart
These hands
can pull your mind apart
You should change your body
To look like a corpse
A needle here a needle there
Some pills
To change the course
She’s terminal terminal
I’ve got to let her go
I’ve got to end her pain
I’m terminal
Most terminal
So I’ve got to win this game
I’ve got to change his name
It’s critical
I’m critical
I’ve got to win the game
Doctor Buss
His hands are inside me
His blood is inside me
He’s working inside me

Dr Buss retaliated against the stroller carriage in an unnecessary way.
Wheelchair Wendy pulled her legs off and begin to spin and attract the attention of the Boxtruck boys who had just arrived from Yemen.
Keys to the coffin
I’m driving away from the violence of childhood
Dr Buss awoke to creep the day.
Underneath a survival tree the fruit had piled up into rotting bodies of labor .
They could now do their job. They would succeed in their decomposition.
Fossil drugs under tongues
Wash down with back eyed(alley) runs.
Singing Stitches,ambulance snitches
Wrong way on a one way steed
Dr Buss she’s working inside me
I feel the hands
Their hands are inside me
I feel your needs your needs are inside me
I have your dreams
Your dreams are inside me
And Dr Buss is my new remedy
Every last drop inside of me.

• Rock
• alternative rock
• art rock
• drone
• gOTH
• goth
• goth rock
• New York