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Blood on the Bands

from Trading Cards of Glory by The Submensas

/

lyrics

BLOOD ON THE BANDS

The blood is on the bands,
The demands of victims.
They're watching sitcoms,
And centuries of news.

They pay for space,
Save space for time,
Time turned them tired,
Too tired, then blind.

The blood is in the eyes,
The bloodshot eyes of witnesses.
The years are long, the centuries short.
We're out of sorts inside a front.

They're turning trash into picnic tables
They're bowing backs, building millions of walls-
They pray to gods, but liberty plods on without them.
They bathe in the pale gray glow of many colors . . .

The blood is on the bands,
The demands of victims.
They're watching sitcoms,
And centuries of news.

The blood is on the bands,
The demands of misfits!
They're having hope,
But it's the secret dope in their ears.

They pay for sound,
Some sound to surround,
So loud they may drown,
But they don't hear the song.

The cadres are born,
And then they are torn,
Blood bathed in twilight,
Shows upon shows,

And washing their brains,
The spotlights are shining
On red-handed bands
While they wash their hands,

The blood is on the bands,
The demands of victims.

(C) Damon Norko

credits

from Trading Cards of Glory, released September 4, 2012

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The Submensas Baltimore, Maryland

A Damon Norko lyric-fueled rock band that inhabited the Baltimore-Washington area from 1983-93.

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