Nothing Wrong with Me - The Buttress

I can break these cuffs, Buttress a ruffian

I’m bloody but lovely, like Buffy, staking hearts across the country

The god-forsaken and hungry crying «give us Barabbas!»

I’m just a tragic actress backpacking to Damascus

Some call me theological

It’s probable that you could find me staring, wearing the alien goggles

I’m shrooming dude, sitting gloomy on ruins underneath a blue moon

I’m high watching the tide rise on the ides of June

I’m an artist, offering alms for pardon

The retarded daughter of a blonde mom singing psalms in the garden

Monsters inside of me hide behind the high beams

I’m peeping at you through vertical blinds, conspiring

Divining behind the grape vine

I find time to make wine with fine rhymes and great lines, so smile

It’s the red hot revival

We waking ladies up with smelly vials as I read out the Bible

I row boats to save hoes and get the gay vote (what the fuck?)

Through alligators in the bay and in the dame’s moat

I’m floating listless, no wishes for Christmas

Clarissa’s been on the hit-list ever since that bitch explained it all to the

Christians

I possess a disposition to inquisition

No rest, it’s heavy, I’m Jacob with the angel wrestling

Stressing, but even sick on an injured hip

I will not release my grip until I receive my blessing

I’m an inquisitive heretic, the unhesitant ex-penitent

I send my primitive rhetoric to ether these geezers

Slay the weak and the feeble and bring the fever to people, ya heard?

Nerdy girl from New Jersey, dirty flirt

It’s the thirsty Samaritan

Asking patrons for spare change to make fare for Charon the ferryman

A harridan, Hagar in the American desert

On an Exodus to hell, kick dust to where I dwell