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Mr. Bungle Miscellaneous Slowly Growing Deaf As the congregation grows The lung of solitude deflates To my ears the greatest sin Feel a bit like Beethoven Simultaneous they speak unbeknownst Exiled to the inner voice, difference is... He had no choice We can't seem to find the air To get our message through your heads Poor respiration is sure To keep clear communication obscure As if I should care As if you are listening out there The louder you speak the more I can hear The less I can understand Pound on it, pound it in To my ears the greatest sin Feel a bit like Beethoven Paint my lungs so silently The darkest color of your noise A crowd will contradict its own audibility Can't hear the diaglogue for the voice No one is listening Yet ears are ringing Ears are ringing In the morning I will see What you were trying to say to me As I respond into the sink Need not again hear myself think Ears are ringing Wax within my ears has grown Just like the snot inside my nose My interpretation of distorted conversation I will kill for isolation Sacrifice the energy To enjoy the breath of silence When the blood comes naturally I have chosen to plug my nose Before the threshold of pain has grown Mole out from society Survive off my soliloquy Removed I can speak as he has Bleeding from nose, throat & ears. |
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