Sage Francis

"Going Back To Rehab"

"Going Back To Rehab"


[alphabetical list of drug streetnames]

I'm going there to give him cash, hear him laugh, bring him back
If I can't tear down these walls, I'll slip him through the crack.
If that crack ain't big enough, I'm sick enough to get committed,
Where he's been, I ain't been allowed to visit, and I miss him.
They put me in a submission hold, got him living in a hole.
Give me the rope, pull it back, cut him slack--he's getting old.
This cold does nothing for his bones... he's shaking.
Always put on hold, that prison phone's always taken
They put me on a speaker but my voice is breaking up.
I'd like to think he caught bits and pieces before the gates got shut.
Raise it up!
Somebody cover me, I'm going in, with razor cuts, and something ugly that I know within
Can't afford the luxury of exposing everything, but I've been doing the best that I can. (that I can)
I take it day by day, just one step at a time, and I don't need a sobriety test to walk the line
Walking on this tightrope with arms open wide, hoping to find you live and well on the other side
So I could give you this gift as a symbol
When I felt the rope loosen, I knew I missed my window
He really did love you, you know pat, pat, I said "Get your fucking hand off my back"
This is my passage into adulthood and I need not
Smalltalk fingers fishing from a weak spot. I used to dream a lot
In search for meaning in a sleepwalk
The only time I find myself having a deep talk
But now I never sleep 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
One can never rest depending on how up the drugs get
Upset, submit me to a blood test
Find no trace of my words reverting back to... wait, that wasn't what I meant
My right eye is sunrise, the left is sunset, the moonshine ain't got me drunk yet
My tongue's wet for the lunar eclipse, and when you're flat broke ain't nothing you won't do for a fix
It's a beautiful mix of Jesus-Juice on my lips
And words that are stuck so I stirred 'em up with a crucifix
And this is where I found a friend in Christ
But I also found a few spikes and I decided to use them as pegs on my bike
So you'd have a place to stand when I broke you out of that vice
And now I'm going back to rehab. (going, going, back, back to rehab)
I'm going back to rehab... (going, going, back, back to rehab)
I'm going back to rehab... (going, going, back, back to rehab)
I'm going back to rehab... (going, going, back, back to rehab)
(going, going, back, back to rehab) (going, going, back, back to rehab)

I'm going back as a Dead-Again Christian, with a medicine prescription
Yeah I'm a friend of Bill! Let-let-let me in!
Get me outta this!
Hooked up to plugs and wires while the dogs sniff for a powdered substance
In a town of judgments with glass-house developments
Cookie-cutter Republican school-book intelligence
They ain't never considered how just one rock,
Could crack the whole facade, now they call the ski slingshots
I will not meditate on the sermon
Heaven's gate is burnin', so we self-medicate with bourbon
While their collection plate gets turned into a purse
I've turned into a second-rate person, but I'm not the first
This isn't your typical cry for help
I tried to melt, but someone stopped the trickling with a +Bible belt+
Reminded me of tourniquets and heroin nods
Now that, that right there, that's one hell of a God
You can't match magic with an addict that's got a mapping compass
In order to find a substance and matchstick that functions
A searching and fearless immoral inventory
'Til every person with a story begins to bore me
I did what I had to do to get
To the place where your face wasn't such a blurry mess
I packed all your favorite promises and words that we kept,
You weren't hard to find, all it took was 13 steps.

And now I'm going back to rehab...
I'm going back to rehab...
I'm going back to rehab...
I'm going back to rehab... I don't drink though
I'm going there to give him cash, hear him laugh, bring him back
If I can't tear down these walls, I'll slip him through the crack.
If that crack ain't big enough, I'm sick enough to get committed,
Where he's been, I ain't been allowed to visit, and I miss him.
Put me in a submission hold, got him living in a hole.
Give me the rope, pull it back, cut him slack--he's getting old.
This bitter cold does nothing for his brittle bones--he's shaking.
Eternally put on hold, that prison phone's always taken
Put me on a speaker but my voice is breaking up.
I'd like to think he caught bits and pieces before the gates got shut.
Raise it up!
Somebody cover me, I'm going in, with razor cuts, and something ugly that I know within.
Can't afford the luxury of exposing everything, but I've been doing the best that I can.
I take it day by day, just one step at a time, and I don't need a sobriety test to walk the line.

[continue alphabetical list of drug streetnames]

"Good Fashion"

"Good Fashion"


Dark lenses, tint the windows that are under my eyelids
To hide from the light like I'm stuck in a fire pit
Burning up a sigh, with no desire to live through these lies
So I suffer in silence
Culture of violence, truth stuck behind my lips
Bound, gagged, and whipped, stripped, divided and split
Eatin' words with a forked tounge
And now the grumble of my stomache's got the thump of a war drum
A battle goin' on inside, nobody's safe from
Clowns are playing rusian roulette with paint guns
They run in place, and they call it the human race
Losin' pace with that stupid look on their face, shootin' blanks
And all they ask is why I wear these glasses
And all I can tell them is hell, it's good fashion
All they ask is why I wear these glasses
And all I can tell them is, hell...
We're acting like men of steel, with a thin protective shield
Gathering the raw footage that can never make the final reel
So we cover up the stories that eyes tell, make way for what we take to the grave
It doesn't bind both souls, buried in a faustian bargain bin
In the cemetary there's a joust between God and men
Talkin' loud, but aint sayin' nothin, used to have daily discussions, I doubt we'll ever talk again
And all they ask is why I wear these glasses
And all I can tell them is hell, it's good fashion
All they ask is why I wear these glasses
And all I can tell them is, hell...

"Got Up This Morning"
(feat. Jolie Holland)

"Got Up This Morning"
(feat. Jolie Holland)



[Sage:]
It's not that what we're doing is wrong
But let's try to keep this a secret
Between me, you, and the song
A menage a trois that sings to me
Sinfully
When god plays along

[Jolie Holland:]
What you want with a woman who won't do what you say?

[Sage:]
I was sweet on her
She was sweet on Jesus
We slept with a blanket barrier between us
Master of her craft, I had her laughin like hyenas
When I asked her if she'd marry an elitist
Staggering genius in lace
With the grace of a drunken monk
The mask isn't seamless cause her face says something's up
But I don't dare ask her I just listen
Switchin to my good ear and adjusting my position
As she discusses Ginsberg I listened and learned
As she dispersed his words I just resisted the urge to do like he would
Whatever he wanted, if she allowed me to
She dangled that carrot then asked me:
"What would Bukowski do?"
Oh don't go there
He'd make you his mom and then completely lie about it in a book later on

[Jolie Holland:]
Got up this morning
Didn't know right from wrong

[Sage:]
Spirits were lifted when she whispered something French in my ear
Tension was there
When I responded in English it sounded less sincere
The sex in the air couldn't be left alone
So welcome to the Terrordome
A bedroom full of pheromones
Where nothing that we say is set in stone
If I thought it was for posterity I'd already be writing better poems
But I'm talking in extremes
Best this and best that
Best not regret anything that ever gets said to this hell cat
Creepin on all fours
Ready for combat
With secretive wars sneaking her claws in our contract
Bending every which way but loose with no proof that anything that we've suggested to this day is the whole truth

[Jolie Holland:]
Got up this morning
Didn't know right from wrong

[Sage:]
I heard her chemical romance was a medical slowdance
Said my advance was sexual
Held my genitals with cold hands
Set up the Coke cans
Broke out the Red Ryder
Then one by one I tried to knock down everything that's dead inside her
She used to treat street dividers like a balance beam
Arms spread wider than the legs in her dad's magazine
Re-enacting the pages that she got trapped between
I used it for kindling and then spilled the gasoline
Now I'm your water boy
I fetch it from your cheeks just like tennis balls
Smell the stench of your weakness on the bedroom walls
Somebody careless let em vaporize
"Who let these fall to the floor from your poor vacant eyes?"
Disintegrate
This ain't a great first impression
But I work better on pages, they say words are my profession
Let me spell it out in simple language
Plain English
I want your suicide to be a book of mine that I never finish

[Jolie Holland:]
Got up this morning
Didn't know right from wrong

What you want with a woman who won't do what you say?

"Grace"

"Grace"


[Hook:]
Patience is a virtue, virtue is a grace
Grace is a little girl who wouldn’t wash her face
Grace is a virtue, virtue is a mean
Between two extremes, one of excess, one of deficiencies
Patience is a virtue, virtue is a dirty stain
Cleanliness is next to godliness and isn’t worth the pain
Grace is a virtue, virtue of the pageant
And this is not a love ballad

[Verse 1:]
You suggested Lithium to get me better again
That is unless if we, uhm, get together again
But that ain’t gonna happen, never again
Send my well wishes to your nutritionist
Your dietician, your pharmacist
Your personal trainer and your accomplices
Your partners in thought crime
Your criminal group thinking doctors online
There is a difference between what is and isn’t
Business and friendship
Parental assistance and an assistant
A permanent solution and a quick-fix
A fit body and sound mind
A hundred hour weeks, and dangerous amounts of downtime
You got a lot to offer, but you’re not an author
If I kill your persecution complex that don’t make you a martyr
Drop the styrofoam cross, you can’t walk on water
You could use it for floatation, not a flying saucer
You suggested professional help like I wasn’t mentally well
What I was feeling wasn’t meant to be felt
Duly noted, you’ll be quoted in the eulogy
It’ll be passed off as poetry between you and me
I know you know the difference between confession and conjecture
Prosity and needing to be lectured to a meet up
The student becomes the teacher, the son becomes a parent
From a scab to teamster, the sun becomes apparent
From a chemical imbalance to a litany of habits
And this is not a love ballad

[Verse 2:]
You should drown me in that womanhood and teach me how to swim
Beat me with my own hands and tie down my limbs
Suffer for my sins or let me suffer from within
But in the end this is not a love ballad
We can battle with tattoos to cover up the bruises
The first to show any sign of discomfort loses
For the first time in a long time you’re not who my muse is
And this is not a love ballad
I’m not thirsty, I just got hungry eyes, you look appetizing
And from a distant stare broken eye contact in disrepair
Sometimes I disappear, but now you see me
A part Irish goodbye, other part Harry Houdini
Put my feet to the fire, I got Satan on my heels
If it’s all about prestige, just wait for the reveal
I got a new bag of tricks to turn, a new black magic woman bitch to burn
So much for live and learn

[Hook]

[Outro:]
Is a music box that haunts me from the top-shelf of the bedroom closet
I don’t touch it, it just cuddles with my conscience
I’m on constant guard, jittery the whole night
Clinging the sheets because it sings to me slow like
And that’s her song running through an hourglass
Built with two wine bottles that I found in a flower patch
Planting it in quicksand, refusing to sink fast
Abusing me slow, I hear the music and I think back
Before the fall, before the set up
Before the interest in sex even developed
I fell in love with distance as an ex’s best friend
There used to be revenge, but i couldn’t see no end
So I had to switch the lens in and focus on some flesh
No more clinging to old threads

"Ground Control"

"Ground Control"


Sad sad monster
Turn those horns up
Burn the back roads
Find your way out
Troubled love life
Give the gift of
Yourself
To the dark.

Ground control to lost soul
Ground control to lost soul
If you copy
Come in lost soul
Come in lost soul
We lost contact,
Abort Mission
We lost contact

Don't these dead streets back you into bad corners
Curbs crumble once you park yeah I saw them sitdown

Parking meters overdue, violation goes unnoticed
Out of all of those who try to travel off road you come the closest

I grant you this toast (this toast)
for all of those who showed promise and never made one that broke
I salute you
I never meant to loose you but I know this road don't go where it used to
I got a map that looks a lot like your veiny arms
It aint to scale but the details the names of the songs
And this one is called Carefull Fight Blues
Manipulative twists that I think that Manson might use

But poor musicians come a dime a dozen
And You're the egg man I'm flashing the pan and your yoke is running
Who broke that hard outer covering
Some chick in the mix you couldn't level with
Headless horsemen come the suffering
Call the direction
Come the air currents but it was my drift your supposed to be catching
Fishnets collect dust in stagnant boarder
Haven't heard back from you since the gag order
Pussycat got your tongue?

You
You're a lint ball who moves on the whim of the wind
Confused flexible movement for freedom
That ain't free
If the walls we keep bouncing off of keep closing in
Theres only so much time before your rhythm gets broken
I can hear it speeding up before we lost the signal
It caused the ripple effect
Brings on the radar with intersect
Now your fingers are off limits
I can't hold your hands longer then your attention span
The two way street we are supposed to meet on
It's a one-way dead end
Some of my best friends press send.

Where are the doughnuts you've been lost inside
Tow trucks you've been for survive
Holdups at the border line
Customs who confiscate costumes, eat my dust
We get exhausted force-fed by car fumes

I cant afford the duty tax so expensive
Come off your head trip and visit where your old friends live
Your sensitive like the time (critical)
You swore to god on a lie and didn't die (your invincible)
Kiss the pavement
Make love or cars when
Be careful when the unsaid ex-parade comes a-marchin
Full body condoms I'll carry you off in
I wish I told you that while we were still talking

"Gunz Yo"

"Gunz Yo"


I'm on fire, i'm on fire
me too, me too
guns yo, i keep one in my pillowcase
it keeps me safe when i sleep, still i keep awake
what if my dream girl pays a midnight visit?
i see the world thru the scope but i gain no insight with it
when i get introspective i put the safety on
make these songs
with the biscuit sittin in my shaky palms
i'm a man now (a real man)
not the one who went to two colleges
grovellin' over meal plans
i'm starin' at the ceiling fan
all wide-eyed
amazed by the ways the blades break the silence
i used to be afraid of firin'
it sounded startling
but now i'm starting to hate the quiet moments
might remind you of a mike
by the way i hold it (to the grill)
a homophobic rapper
unaware of the graphic nature of phallic symbols
tragically ironic, suckin' off each others' gats & pistols
i got more back issues than guns and ammo
cuz my uzi weighs a ton
and i never let go of the handle
hangin' on to mommy's pant leg
double-fistin'
knee-deep in shells kickin' ballistics
this dick is a detachable penis
an extension of my manhood positioned like a fetus
an intravenous hook-up feeds bullets to my magazine
nevermind the bullocks, my pistol is a sex machine
guns yo (sex machine)
bust it
i got another gun (what)
i keep it in my briefcase
it keeps me safe at my workplace
cubicle gangster who's in need of his personal space
gangster of love who's unable to look girls in his face
cuz i know that all the stupid people increase the birth rate
i'm just about dumb enough to hold up a sperm bank
make my demands and then facilitate fur trades
empty the bird cage and release the mermaids
huh
i got a watergun
i keep it in my mouth
it keeps me safe from the things i like to speak about
but words are leakin' out
and all these smiles that i crack
are like a dam on the verge of collapse
there ain't no turnin' back
in fact i can't hold down my fluids
can't retract statements
without water displacement
flooded the basement
then sought refuge
removed my waterproof vest and then i kicked off my wet shoes
made it to dry land
pistol in hand
fistfuls of ammo riding on a camel
thru a desert of sand
lucid dreams are a lot like computer screens
people have pretentious conversations but i shoot the breeze
blow a hole straight thru their long-winded theories
hold my own and make songs for them to sing with me
its the same type of heat that millie used
to break the ice with santa claus
when she made him sing the christmas blues
capitalists strung her up for killin'em
every manufactured holiday they sacrifice another victim
before wartime depression sets in
i get to step in
and shoe shine my weapon
i'm hemorrhoid, i'm the leader
you're dead like dey la
i hold my crotch like a nine-millimeter
guns yo
(i'm on fire) (me too)
(nine-millimeter) (sex machine)

"Hang Time (Bang Bang Boogie)"

"Hang Time (Bang Bang Boogie)"


Bang, bang, boogie
Up jumps the party

I know your name
And the hours that you operate are grave
Yard, Shift my body weight out the gates
He came
Like a thief in the night
This hell hounded off his leash
Teeth clenched tight
You might know my face
Not the expression that it's left in
When I taste
A loved one's blood, my forked tongue
Makes y'all protect your next of kin
Take it like pain killers
Spill the pills and medicine right down the drain
Flush the evidence
Then claim your innocence
Bitch, this just isn't their game
In fact their rules don't apply here
It's a shame that you're going to die here
Underneath my thumb print
All over some dumb shit
Run quick 'cause
You're about to get your punk ass beat in public
Like bang, bang
Bang, bang, boogie

He beat down her door
With an alibi full of childhood
I killed time
While it stood still for her
Moments must have adjusted accordingly
But on his watch
The minutes were fast, giving him whiplash
Beat by the hands of my clock
Lots can happen in an hour
For some days don't fly by
They make a crash landing
I flee by night and only return for emergencies
Just so I can listen to the ambulance sing
Sirens rang
The colors of the flashing lights
Painted the town red in the blackest of nights
So I will not taint beauty
In the ugliest of moments
Its that strange side of a poet
I'm writing you out of my will to live and let live
And to give you some perspective
I'm a changed man in that respect
You best get professional detectives and motion detectors
To protect your relatives
That's as much warning as your ass will get
I hold my aim
This is an invite
To my domain
Pick me up while I hitchhike
On memory lane
Sit tight while I backseat drive you insane
And beat your brains until you see nothing but pitch white
And keep you breathing just long enough to have you explain what its like
And how you like it
Convince me
I want to believe
I want to believe that you bleed
I want to believe that you're bleeding
Just as much as she did
I'll experiment with your life
Until I find it's fucking meaning
You will hang, hang
Bang, bang, boogie

She beat back her attackers
With a childhood full of alibis
As I understood
She had to lie
The battle cries must have adjusted accordingly
Her stopped calls for help never were answered back
And for that beat by the hands of my clock
Lots can happen in a matter of seconds
Ask for a repentance from a looking glass
Self shattered reflections
Before you blame your anger on adolescence
Listen to the symphony of ambulances sing
So beautiful
So nice
Tell me where were you last night?
As usual
You lied
Tell me where the fuck you hide

It goes bang, bang, boogie
Up jumps the party
I always notice when she has new marks on her body

"Hell Of A Year"

"Hell Of A Year"


It's been a hell of a year, but I'm mentally prepared
To do a dance around the next couple medical scares
I'm Fred Astaire with the metal wearing quickly off my tap shoes
So I step quietly, the way that cat's move
But I'm bear-like. My head trapped in dear lights
You can call me John, I'm writing letters to the dark side of the moon tonight
My lovely Jane, you went away but the pain stayed
So I'm sending you a package to the address where you traded names
I made no claims on the identity theft
I'm more concerned about the home with no amenities left
And it's already a mess. The dust piles like your junk mail
So I eat away depression and crush the scale
You find yourself on the opposite side of the spectrum
Emaciated on a strict diet of bed crumbs
Me? I choose to wallow and I'll just swim in my fat
You...refuse to swallow so I see ribs from the back
This isn't an attack, it's an admission of guilt
I'm living in the past, kissing your ass, sipping your milk
But it's all bone and curdle. I saw stones in a circle
Stood in the middle. Told myself riddles in a robe that's purple
The murder weapon was an icicle
Is that the reason why I'm standing in this puddle with my eyes so full?
I fight feelings like a war on drugs
I'm a chemist with a test tube addiction born through coffee mugs
Our baby now is all growed up
Your car is still dead in my driveway while I wait for the tow truck
And you know what? I know I drove you away
I still don't think it was wrong so I don't know what to say
It's been a tough year. You say that life ain't fair
Well, guess what, baby...life ain't. Thems the breaks
You say that life ain't worth it. But it is. You gotta work it
Nobody's life is perfect

Yeah, you've been dealt a bad hand. Placed against a stacked deck
Been through all the cat scans and bad checks
But I slashed your debt. Not your wrists
And I couldn't help with anything else that became cancerous
Halfway people with a full baby to bury
Took a flame to the papier-mache sanctuary
When the smoke clears...try not to stare into the light
But, also, don't stay in the dark as if that's what life is like
It's just a series of unfortunate events
But the messages we get are more important than death
What's the rush?
I've got a shortness of breath
What's the rush?
Running from you...running from me
It's the rush. The crush. The lust. The love-trust
So what's the trouble? The busted bubble? The unjust?
That's just the way the cookie crumbles. It does suck
But suck it up. We're all looking, but nothing's enough
We used each other as a crutch. The clutch. The shift switches
You couldn't just adjust. You combusted and ripped pictures
This is why I'm not considered a saint?
Well, guess what?......I ain't

It's been a hell of a year
You said that I ain't there, I ain't care, and life ain't fair
It's been a hell of a trip
You say my mind's unfit, I've been flip, and I ain't shit
It's been a hell of a life
You say that I ain't like the way I write and that ain't right
It's been a hell of an attempt
You say that I ain't meant for promises unkept
Well, guess what, darlin..
I'm a keep keep callin
Guess what, darlin..
I'm a keep keep callin

"Her Schlag"

"Her Schlag"


Call me Xaul Zan, a person cursed to remain faceless
In a small van with curtains and it's her fame that makes this
Even more grand it's all planned, the worst shame is i'm paceless
Her doorman and I are on a first name basis

I kick the worst game in cases that are up close and personal
I'm the utmost personable person who won't converse when I don't have my curtains pulled
at least that's how I picture it.