The Suffering Machine - Buck 65

Black Angel

Black Angel

Black Angel

Carry me down

Jackets and shoes

Pistols and pens

Poor boy, feels like I ain’t got no friends

I wake up nervous

Sunday is gloomy

Eyes on the sidewalk

Look right through me

I hear myself breathing

Trying to focus

Goodbye Babylon

Wandering hopeless

The drifter

Singing the lament to the non-trier

The isolation makes me wanna set myself on

Fire

But I don’t live anywhere

Black Angel

Black Angel

Black Angel

Carry me down

Black Angel

Black Angel

Black Angel

Carry me down

I pick all the flowers

Extinguish the flames

The insanity is I can remember all of their names

The bottom of the barrel

It’s no way how to be

But the cold and the silence

Beats the shit out of me

The windows are wooden

But I shouldn’t complain

I’ll just keep digging

Until I’m good and insane

Cobwebs and apple cores

Old ghosts and vestiges

The woman at the desk says I ain’t got no messages

But I don’t live anywhere

Black Angel

Black Angel

Black Angel

Carry me down

Lost in a haze

A fantasy in folklore

The woman I love, she don’t want me no more

Inebriated, alliviated of pain and speaking

Wild

Full-grown man, reduced to a weakling child

Hard a hearing, short-tempered, long viewing

Completely disappeared

And cleared of all wrong doing

Challenging the calendars

And tempting the clocks

Tree knocked over

Inside an empty box

And I don’t live anywhere

Black Angel

Black Angel

Black Angel

Carry me down

Black Angel

Black Angel

Black Angel

Carry me down