THE WORSTWORKS’ LYRICS


THE LAST DAY

Awaiting trial.

Weeping-time.

At last he knows the true sense

of life.

A weird old man

thinking back

to the time when he had felt free

and alive.

The coloured twilights,

a heart in pain,

the smells, a loss, the first kiss,

the rain…

My only life.


AT ANY GIVEN TIME

Here how they laugh,

they fuck her to make you cry.

Laughing at you

they bang against the walls.

Laughing at you

they fuck her inches away.

You scratch at the door

like a dog the won’t let in.

They mount her like dogs

and like dogs they pant.

No! She’s not yours…

she’s not your anymore… No!

Wipe their sperm off your face,

swallow your fucking tears.

Set yourself on fire

in the room next door,

howl so they can hear you…

warn them that you’re near.


ROADS END UNKIND

... but this bleak night overwhelms

with all shelters bared;

ain´t we searching for

that pleasant wonderland?

That pleasant wonderland…

Searching for that wonderland...

One word in our mouth,

one million roads in our mind.

We lose sight of that kind of sympathy

that exists in things mundane.

We do regret what´s left behind

and couldn´t be…

Our security staggers

cause love is something hybrid too.

Shifted illusions astray in nowhere

now drift with our eager wishing.

For a while we touch the infinite

and then downfall ruins everything.

For a while we touch glory

and then a bitter tear

despoils us of our innocence.

We ever walk one step ahead

of what we can really absorb

so these roads don´t exist to be kind,

for they shall be impassable…

… they shall be impassable

for the memories to come.


BODY COUNT

Tube stab murder.

Liquid steel and sweat.

Now it’s time to thrill.

Future is a newborn

with scalded skin.

Cut your wings off.

Bite the curb.

… and tonight

fail again.

The paroxism

on a budget bed.

… and your smile

tangled in wires.

The paroxism.

Rain of needles when I cum

thinking of your broken life.

Cyber warware and sex crimes.

Rain of needles when I cum

thinking of your broken life

as te therror rises.

Body count.

Breath control play

staring at the flesh.

Raw footage shot.

Future is a corpse

obscured by weeds.

I’ll ignore the machine.

… and tonight

dead-end streets.

Children looking

through the holey briks.

… and their smile

Crushed by the gears.

The paroxism.

The heart’s treason.

Rain of needles when I cum

thinking of your broken life.

Cyber warware and sex crimes.

Rain of needles when I cum

thinking of your broken life

as te therror rises.


RED-SHADED LANDSCAPES

A precious link, too hard… but broken.

Revolving words within, distracted.

The reason to begin the trek.

Stop looking back. They´ll scorn you.

A precious link, too hard… but broken.

A flaming sword that turns and keeps watch.

And glad they drove me out I left.

Stop looking back. Now I´m stateless.

A distant place to hide and hold out.

Red mountains, sunscorched fields, some dry trees...

I´m driving off and won´t go back.

There´s no turning back.

Just change gear...


JAILBAIT (THE HUT)

Hideout in isolation.

You can come at your leisure.

This is the hut…

Child bride you are a pricktease,

you know I’m very easy…

This is the hut…

How can you be so pretty?

You know I’m lustful-natured…

She declared herself to be

very inexperienced at relationships.

I could see it in her body,

stripped to the waist

and covered by her arms.

Fishnet stockings on her legs.

Purity lurking on a tartan skirt.

Clasping me shyly to her chest

I could smell her sweating neck.

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.

Ninety pounds is all she weighs.

You were fifteen and I was twenty,

the first one who got your mind dirty.

A little girl of great worth,

nobody had touched you before,

the law has put a high price on you

and they would do the same with my head too.

Jailbait is so cute

but it leads to lawsuits.

Promise you won’t tell your daddy

I made you cry cause I rejected your body?

And don’t tell your friends either,

just invite them to come to the hut…

Come and… have some tea.


HEAVEN’S GATES*

Pleading at heaven’s gates

they crawl with dragging chains

and say their anguished prayer:

“We are not guilty.”

These fools have gone off course

and have been doomed to fail.

They cry with sad smiles

and beg for mercy:

“We are a bunch of shit:

murderers, rapists, thieves…

We are the failed ones.

We are the failures.”

* The language heard in this track is… well… invented. In fact, there’s only a verse formed by four sentences and repeated three times. These were the original lyrics.