Dax Riggs is British
It was clear he was not the one
As he pulsed and turned like a dying sun
At the center of a doomed galaxy
In regalia of a circus freak
Sweat from a thousand oceans flew
At speed of light to escape the pull
Of a supermassive asshole
Tonight we dine on insect meat
Eat the wings spit out the feet
A mile from the river with the daddy juice
A monkey in a backpack hitched a ride
As the son of a dogman walked inside
Changed a warehouse to recovery room
A white sand oasis in full bloom
Tonight we dine on insect meat
Eat the wings spit out the feet
Benedictine sauce offers no excuse
A block from the river with the daddy juice
Innocent souls exposed to liars
Dancing in a trance while the baby's on fire
These are all sins let the ritual
The curse of the
Support to a fellow troubadour
The twilight hour fast approaches and I lean upon the taffrail
Consuming my surroundings with my eyes, blood orange ipa in my grasp
I press it against my lips as if it were a lover from a bygone age
The smooth nectar flows between my lips lifting my spirits
My companion palms his lone star as I catch sight of a woman whose name I'll never recall
She is alone travelling abroad to see the bats spill forth from their diurnal home
Dinosaurs dangle from her ears as I fixate upon her diastema
We make pleasant conversation for a time
My third companion joins us from his brief reprieve and dream state at the same time as the bats
I bid my would be mistress farewell before she drifts out of my mind
Filed away in the mental Rolodex of femme fatales whisked away by time and pportunity
I think of her often but I do not miss her
Tonight we dine on insect meat
Eat the wings spit out the feet
Benedictine sauce offers no excuse
Down by the river with the daddy juice
Innocent souls exposed to liars
Dancing in a trance while the baby's on fire
These are all sins let the ritual begin
As he pulsed and turned like a dying sun
At the center of a doomed galaxy
In regalia of a circus freak
Sweat from a thousand oceans flew
At speed of light to escape the pull
Of a supermassive asshole
Tonight we dine on insect meat
Eat the wings spit out the feet
A mile from the river with the daddy juice
A monkey in a backpack hitched a ride
As the son of a dogman walked inside
Changed a warehouse to recovery room
A white sand oasis in full bloom
Tonight we dine on insect meat
Eat the wings spit out the feet
Benedictine sauce offers no excuse
A block from the river with the daddy juice
Innocent souls exposed to liars
Dancing in a trance while the baby's on fire
These are all sins let the ritual
The curse of the
Support to a fellow troubadour
The twilight hour fast approaches and I lean upon the taffrail
Consuming my surroundings with my eyes, blood orange ipa in my grasp
I press it against my lips as if it were a lover from a bygone age
The smooth nectar flows between my lips lifting my spirits
My companion palms his lone star as I catch sight of a woman whose name I'll never recall
She is alone travelling abroad to see the bats spill forth from their diurnal home
Dinosaurs dangle from her ears as I fixate upon her diastema
We make pleasant conversation for a time
My third companion joins us from his brief reprieve and dream state at the same time as the bats
I bid my would be mistress farewell before she drifts out of my mind
Filed away in the mental Rolodex of femme fatales whisked away by time and pportunity
I think of her often but I do not miss her
Tonight we dine on insect meat
Eat the wings spit out the feet
Benedictine sauce offers no excuse
Down by the river with the daddy juice
Innocent souls exposed to liars
Dancing in a trance while the baby's on fire
These are all sins let the ritual begin
Credits
Writer(s): Josh Zerangue
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.