Moss Icon - Kick The Can

A thousand, red warriors reluctantly ordered to begin

A charge that lead to slaughter amid chaotic blackened din

On a desert plain where I now stand rubbing dusty eyes

With the company of a deaf friend whose beginnings I despise

It is lonely at this stop here with the low arms 

of light creeping in

We delivered the kiss of death and it was 

well received

It is lonely and there is no place to go except down

It’s lonely and there’s no where to go except down

The desert is alone and I’ve no vkontakte to show this dawn

Just heavy, cold light on these eyes, this sorry excuse 

for eyes

I dressed up a cactus as a clown and on 

his spiny vkontakte I painted a frown

His whiskers brush my cheek, I plant the kiss 

of death, my lip bleeds

It is lonely and the only direction I know 

is down into the battle

It is lonely and the only place I know to go 

is down into the bottle

The desert is home for me, a dusty, circus clown

“the moth balls,” I told you “were such a sorry 

excuse for eyes.”

On a desert plain where I now stand rubbing

dusty eyes

In a company of a drunk, deaf, dumb friend

whose beginnings I despise

spotted with placid mirrors is this ground

but their reflection scares the shit out of me

Takes what he can, when he can, why he can

He kicks the can

There’s a pebble inside and it rattles hopelessly 

to the empty desert dawn

but it was well received