Snooze Button Lyrics

Snooze Button by Jam Baxter

• He slept through it, bled fluids,
• Sank in it and swam to sea,
• Dreaming of his killer, sticking stings in his hands and feet,
• Sharpening the tangled teeth, twist them round his jaw liner,
• Skewered every organ, glued loosely to his warped spine,
• His self-seared griddled skin seems seamless,
• Never dazzled by their flashing LED Jesus,
• But the grainy jets of pressure spewing from a squeezed fetus,
• Sandblasted every sleepless second from the sea creatures,
• We, the undersigned, slumbered on the underside of HMS Slash-and-Burn,
• Sailing through the troubled sky,
• Face-up in some swamp as millions of jungle flies slide down our nails,
• Curling ever longer up the vines,
• Electric blue dagger sliced his head in two,
• And now he's half asleep, and half ejected in a petting zoo,
• Losing count of countless hopping sheep that never let him through,
• Screaming, 'We'd be better off beheading you.'
• Guess it's true.

• I slept through it, let's do it,
• Fill me in in four minutes,
• Spend the fifth spewing disbelief until my fourth Guinness,
• What do you mean, 'it's all finished'?
• Fucking backstabbers.
• Which gang of youths slashed my hammock cut from bandannas?
• Haphazard, hazy figure drifting in the warm brine,
• He left forty winking widows on the shoreline,
• I swore blind I never tasted evil as I stand covet,
• Then they saw the keys to Hell, gleaming in my back pocket.
• [What are these?]
• Ah, nothing.
• I'm above suspicion, was I dreaming, drunk, propping up the pub with double vision?
• 'Till fate brought a pile of files plundered from a sunken prison,
• Every unforgiven act was cataloged and numbered in them,
• [Look me up.]
• He said it with the kind of crumpled arrogance reserved for every squashed sack of scum that runs the battlements,
• And that was it,
• Top board, chloroform, belly flop, trust.
• You'll have found a bed of tenners when that penny drops.

• I slept through it, bet you it backfires later,
• Snoozing on the circle line, tapped by a stranger,
• 'I think you missed your stop,' he said, pointing at the carbon dust,
• Trust me, I couldn't yam the tramadol fast enough,
• Parking up the spy plane, puking on the dashboard,
• And cutting bits of ultra out the engine with a hacksaw,
• Is routine procedure when you're scratching at the backdoor,
• To every nightmarish situation you could plan for,
• I think I saw it aura, start to end,
• Must have steamrolled my damn face across the stars again,
• I should have circled every murder merchant with a marker pen,
• So when they don a mask and start charging we can laugh at them,
• Oh well, next time,
• Just hold this tonne of filth,
• I'm still reeling off the cascades of multicoloured silks,
• Just the moldy-covered guilt for the twisted little glutton,
• I got a fist full of minutes when his finger hit the button.

• Sitting on the edge of it all, pressed to the wall,
• Marinating in some sick, sweet source evaporating,
• These patterns changing, faster than the ill-painted, ill-faces,
• Littered all upon them watching bill cages,
• Tick, basic installation, lifetimes of information's,
• Stored on the blemish of this illustration,
• Ripped invitations, littered in a little basement,
• 'Please attend a crash course in fitting into his equation',
• Televised mission statement,
• The red eye reduction can't quell the dark crimson irises behind the sunken sockets,
• Not a knife to cut them,
• Red hot, giant mushrooms, handshakes all round,
• High five, fine eruption, hiding London's undercurrents,
• Love to love them, learn to leave them,
• One singular sun blushed, eternal season,
• Reeling into distant futures, fingers of forgotten ages,
• Prised off the shiny, newer models, confiscated,
• Fetch them at the end,
• Pixelated God's telescopic lenses, sitting taking shots,
• The great grand electric killers never knock,
• Apart from when they're sure you'll let them in and let them cotch,
• Let them off,
• They're all just naturalised, clandestine movements that tranquilise mutants,
• That sat inside, eulogise yourself,
• And if you're speechless, it speaks for itself,
• Deleted in a scream and a squelch,
• I sit in a circle where I filed a thousand solaces,
• Cycle spinning on a ship,
• Once I was an honest kid, office in the sky, house inspectors from the suited age,
• Who are they?
• Answer's on a postcard, but who can say?
• Take these, two a day,
• Have a lolly, shutup,
• Of course you ate the pavement kid, you had a shoddy run-up,
• Drug up any wide-eyed, long of the tooth, crude dreamers,
• Grin as the ballistic missiles shoot them through their gruesome features.

Lyrics taken from UndergroundHH, check out our full database of Jam Baxter Lyrics.