Black bitter milk we
drink in toast to the dawn
In huddled silence as

a long night falls
We write of love upon
the bodies of our dead

Swallow pride and
venom for our daily bread
Duende

Wash your conscience
in the tears of men who rape
Trace your pleasures

in the outlines of pain
You speak of laws and
rights in this day and age?

I don't believe in
anything I can't taste
Duende

And tonight the losers
sleep, or lie awake and gnaw their wrists
Crippled dancers,

beaten heroes, squandered artists
Refugees from those
wretched lands

Where our dreams died
like lovers in our hands
While outside in

that new age
Lost children and
devils play

On the very
doorsteps of our homes
New deities sworn

in
Consuming from
without and from within

Clean the land down
to bare and blackened bones
Make ready ten billion

beds in hell
For we're all coming
soon And in this noise, the

dreadful silence of tongues
Tied by words never
spoken, songs left unsung

Vows that were bent
rather than broken
Locked chambers that

will never open
And none on this earth
will ever get what they want

And that is beautiful,
or close enough
And we'll clutch our

regrets
Shut out the rest
Cut out the hearts

from our chests
And we move
Eyes shut, silent,

hand in hand
Towards a broken
promised land When those before

you lost their heads upon the block
Or sold themselves
into the services of the

Snakes as new gods
Reshape the world
in their own image

And all the others
turn their eyes away
We will set out with a

fire in our hearts
With a desire that
cannot be bought

To snatch the morning
from the jaws of the night
To take the dead and
bring them back to life
Duende nowordsnotouchnosleepnotrustnohopenofaithnorestingplace From childhood schemes

on stranger's floors
To sickbeds, cells
And foreign shores
Homeless
Heartless

Restless
Selfless
Lifeless
Loveless
Less and

Less and
Less And if the morning
comes late this time
That fickle sun will
rise to find

My fingers clutched
tight around the husks
Of dreams I built from
dust
Finally dead
Dead in the land of

the dead
And they will call it
suicide
As I scream for just
one finger of dawn
And it's coming
On all horizons, like

gathering clouds
Bar the doors to shut
it out
But put your ear to
your chest
You will hear
In your own breast

Hoof beats
Closing in and there's nothing
pure in this place
and there's nothing
clean in this place
and there's nothing
sure in this place

and there's nothing
free in this place
and in this world
there's nothing safe
and in this world
there's nothing fair
and nothing in this

world is true
this world that i
can't bear
and the morning
came late I'll spit it back in
your face
Last-born of an evil

race
We're all evil in this
place Just $#&@ing give
me a taste