The Hanging Bandits - Existential Night at the Comedy Store Lyrics

There are actors in the audience
Spectators on the stage
It took the weak to lift the universe
The illiterate to turn a better phrase
I'm poor on principle but I'm strict on stains
Strung out on the rest-stop lore
At the fractured meridian walking to the comedy store

Up above the puddles where
Oils paint a story of mislead particles
Falsified former glories
There's still a movement in the flats
Syphon blood from mud and fat
They got the taste of tax on their lips
And a bag of useless heirlooms on their backs

The news is carved in walls and benches
In the studio record a myth and verse
Tell white lies in lines to ourselves
But look to the street for what we're really worth
Been turning time into money
And money into dirt
Lost my flatterer's tongue to all these thoughts
And made a sucker's investment in the comedy store

Christians at home with pagan fears
Farmland that's fed on lights and lives
They rise from their shallow slumber
And step one slip into a deeper state
Without a valid pharmaceutical voucher
I'm a sleeper agent still half awake