the pain of the game

Open up the borders release the plague

open the carnival, open the graves

send for your bible send for your cane

sit down at the table, feel the clank of the chain

can't you explain, why can't you explain?

the pain of the game

the moment you were born the race had begun

and you run and you run to catch the fast-rising sun

don't tell them your dreams or they'll laugh in your face

just climb up the ladder, put them in place

and as you climb higher, they start to feel small

pretty soon you'll rule over them all

you run through the forest you run to the lake

you'd better run faster or you're going to be late

to your own execution, it's drawing quite a crowd

and as you draw closer, they start to get loud

the executioner greets you as a friend

he says "everyone's here! everyone you sent (with your pen) to their ends"

you awake with a sweat from the terror of the night

in your bed of delusions its sheets crisp and white

with your lover beside you and the sun on the floor

surrounded by all the good things you adore

but you wish you could speak to them, the ones in your dream

you'd ask them "what does it mean?" 

that your dreams are the machines of your grief

but you spent all the money on new machines of war

while a shivering ex-serviceman dies right outside your door

you run to the churchyard to bury your head

or seek some forgiveness from the souls of the dead

but they won't forgive you, they're not even there

all you can squeeze out is an insincere tear

the further you go, the further you run

the longer the shadows from the fast-setting sun

'till it stares at you coldly straight in the eye

the witness to every one of your lies

the witness to every deed you tried to hide

then it sinks and leaves you alone with the night

now only the mirror can see what you've done

but it won't forgive you it's just like the sun

your family won't protect you nor will the police

nor will the prisoners you have released

but it's in your own head where the judgement is found

it's there with the sound of the pound of your soul going down

There's also a demo of this song here: https://youtu.be/Kyx6hF0rQVU (at about the three-minute mark)

Pay day

how long

must we remain strong

with a shit storm blowing in every other day

you work hard

push through the final yard

and the boss is on his way

you don't know what he's going to say

but today is payday

'the work's done

but you coulda done better, son'

then he rolls off on his merry way

a blank stare

you fall back in your chair

and the kids climb on to play

the tv's on 

but you know it's all wrong

people just say what they're paid to say

it's called news 

but it's a kind of abuse

and the boss watches every day

and before they say it 

he knows what they'll say

especially on payday

and today is payday

you scroll and scroll 

through the wall of trolls

you wonder who their baiting for today

it seems true

like it's you their talking too

and they know who's going to pay

the conspiracy 

will set you free

it's a play within the play

and the boss watches every day

and today is payday

but tomorrow is payback day

you don't fear

cause he can't hear

the words you choose not to say

you feel them though

and sometimes it shows 

when you look at him in the eye that way

he always drives home this way

and the tools are in the tray

and you don't care what he'll say

cause we've all got a new job today

and today is payback day

Muletonic · Payday full lyrics demo

in the old days

in the old days

i would want to write to you about all this

this devastation, this departure

i would want to tell you all about it

about the void you have left in my life

i would say 

how in the blank portals of my room

i look for your lovely body

its familiar bones and places

your corkscrew smile 

puncturing my heart

and drawing out my breaths

about how i'm using the recipes you taught me

how i'm wearing the clothes you bought me

i'm tasting the words you gave to me

every time i speak

and i desire to hear your voice in echo

correcting every dumb thing i say

there's no more familiar voice to me in this world

i am dying to tell you all about this

and hear your reply

because i assume you are going through all this too

and no one would understand this mess i made

as well as you

so long in tune

this pain is the loss of our alignment

its intensity and its reason

is just the very absence it records

that familiarity is what

no longer exists

if i went looking for it in you

i would be faced with the horror

of its disfiguration

as would you it in me

we carry each other's ghost

and we can imagine it as we like

to imagine it

i can imagine you

as in the old days

your tangly hair tumbling down your shoulder

your blissful cheek and your hip

ghost piercing through the London streets

like a wonderful disaster

the wonderful perfect disaster

that i welcomed into my life 

just so it could be messy forever

This is what we chose

 if they ask

you should tell them

that we could have stopped it

but we chose not to

you should tell them

we had the tools

the technology

and the time

but we chose to enjoy our comforts

a little longer

those same comforts we have now lost

and so we rake the leaves

the autumn leaves

the leaves of our history

 our poetry, our learning

we rake them all into piles

 and then we burn them

we burn them to forget

for to remember

brings too much pain

and all the leaves are burning

for the forests are drying out

and the coral reefs are turning bone white

the storm is coming

but there won't be much snow

and so the glaciers retreat

and the seas rise to drink our cities

and this is what we chose

this is what we chose