Parade Music - Masochism Lyrics

Shadow in the sheep flock
Little, little lamb
An Abrahamic ascot in red
Forgiveness for the damned
I'd rather hang from my hands
Than push boulders for my craft
But casting deceit out to the crows
All I hear back is cackled laughs
Still casting stones to the sea
And waiting for them to float
Or acting out in royal hubris
Waiting for the crowds to dote
Yet while holding for applause
I'll bow my head a thousand times
Sisyphean at best
A fallow hill I choose to climb
To play a background part
In my own one-man show
Is to pervert the mystic art
Of keeping milestones in tow
Laying a trench-trap trail
To feast on that which falls within
Ouroboros; chasing my tail
What is, will be, has been
The cream still rises up
With boiled ideals cut and drawn
Making meals for the meek
From the brash brunt of the brawn
A caverned cornucopia
A horn of hasty ends
Crooked tooth, bit tongues, stuck secret
A message writ, in failure, sent
I, a viscous Casanova
Dripping with a taste for show
For once the flair has been repurposed
As dragging milestones in tow
Matters of the heart
Can still meander in their wake
Masochistic missed connections
Feigning folly flecks and flakes
For me to revel in the rubble
I so readily create