Termites

Gin always the gin
I always take one on the chin
the devil dogs and scorpions peel away and wear my skin

the smokeless flame
the common name
less than the angels but more of the same
no paradise, nor gre'thor will lay their claim
whether the intentions are violent or just mundane

with the wind he disappeared, confirming everything that I feared
the time passed is shown by the length of his beard

Solomon stands dead on his feet
waiting for termites to resolve his conceit
(In the mountains, in the seas, in the airways, the disease)

we are not gods
death comes to us all
but tonight I'm invincible, tomorrow I'll crawl
(In the mountains, in the seas, in the airways, the disease)

the gin in this bottle, just don't let him drown
next lesson you swallow, might be hard to keep down
taste the penalty of the blazing fire
taste the penalty, sing with the devil's choir

Gin always the gin
never thick and never thin
thicker than blood, less than kin,
the rattle-trap night ends where it begins