Visions of Pain (Tim Goldsworthy Remix)

A prick, a prod, it's the end of the line

The wrong kind of dream that water still isn’t wine

Gone golgothic my friend, it is bent, it is torn

It is clear that you're here to suck it up from the floor

The rabble, they grope, in gladness they crush

My every ideal but I’m no longer touched

I'm whiter than milk, a plant, a seed

A growth agape the reason you plead

A stiff, a crutch, it's the end of a prime

The end of a stump, it's a waste of your time

It's anaemic to taste, it is stale, it is done

It is blight, it is clear that you're here to be shunned

The cattle, they stoop, in madness they rush

I froth at the mouth but I’m no longer touched

I'm whiter than milk, a prat, a weed

A bum, a flash, the source of all need

It's your dead town spice, it's the size of your mum

It's a break in the keel, it's awake, it is numb

Still my brother insists that we stay on the march

Through his vision of pain to the end of my heart

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

The lid, the sty, the press and the prang

The softness of sin, the back of a hand

A temple of kicks at the mouth of a night

A corona of lust that is gone with the light

A loin, a crack, a knack, a sham

It's a year, it's a day, it is under a gram

The tip of a tongue, all lathered in spite

And a mind that won't stop, it's the flood, it's the flood

Beneath, beyond, before, be-twixt

A claim, an heir, your future won't fix

Still my brother insists that we stay on the march

Through this vision of pain to the end of my heart

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain

Visions of pain