Pulse

My baby paints herself red
She paints her hair
Her hair is dead
She's living in the city
With the bodies that scream
We are all Jesus
We all dreamSee the dancer in there reeling
Paint the sky upon the ceilingFour useless Gods upon a day
So blinded by the filth on Sunday
Saying the words for the idiots
You are miracle drivel
Optical sewerListens to the flowers fall
Paint the words upon the wallThis is the pulse of fools like you
Who sound so red and turn so blue
The sound of uselessness in slumber
War is over if you wantSee the dancer's semen reeling
Paint the sea upon the ceilingPulseMy baby paints herself red
She paints her hair
Her hair is dead
She's living in the city
With the bodies that scream
We are all Jesus
We all dreamSee the dancer's semen reeling
Paint the sky upon the ceilingThat's pulse