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The Mourning Sickness
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Hanging on the Wall
© Enjoy Your Symptom Records, all rights reserved worldwide (ASCAP).


I'm standing here bleeding
Because I'm hanging form the ceiling
My friends all are not grieving
They cherish this friendly feeling
One of theirs escaped today
From scorn and disdain
From the purposelessness of life
From the meaning of my strife

Just don't cut me down
My feet won't touch the ground
Spinning round and round
Like St. Peter the clown
Crucified in his day
From the people he betrayed
The misery that is might
And the ugliness of spite
It sounds like…

I'm standing here bleeding
Because I'm hanging from the ceiling
Mom and Dad they be grieving
Because I'm up here on the ceiling
Lain before them without clothes
So hard it could explode
An embarrassment to the race
Hide his shame and our disgrace

Just don't cut me down
My feet won't touch the ground
St. Peter on his cross
Identity embossed
Floating up out into space
In giddiness and grace
From the tyranny of the day
The emptiness it betrays
It sounds like…

I'm standing here bleeding
Because I'm hanging from the ceiling
I'm so happy on this day
A commitment I have made
To leave this mortal coil
This joy won't be despoiled
Jouissance means, "to come"
Now I hear the hum

Just don't cut me down
My feet won't touch the ground
The miracle fills my eyes
Excitement has arrived
St. Peter in his day
The agony betrayed
The tyranny denied
Nothing has arrived
And it sounds like…


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