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A-Z (artist name) of Guitar Tab
A    B    C    D    E    F
G    H    I    J    K    L
M    N    O    P    Q    R
S    T    U    V    W    X
Y    Z    0-9

A-Z (artist name) of Guitar Tab
A   B   C   D   E   F   G   H   I   J   K   L   M   N   O   P   Q   R   S   T   U   V   W   X   Y   Z   0-9

Click HERE for an easy print version of manson marilyn - poaaf album lyrics


################################################################
# The following is the author's own interpretation of the song #
# to be used for studying or private use only. Downloaded from #
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Date: Sun, 2 Nov 1997 18:42:26 -0500
 Subject: lyrics to POAAF album
 From: guitarist69@juno.com (iou i ou)
                                    Prelude
                       There's no earthly way of knowing
                         Which direction we are going
                     There's no knowing where we're going
                       Or which way the wind is blowing
                         Is it raining? Is it snowing
                           Is a hurricane a-blowing
                        Not a speck of light is showing
                         So the danger must be growing
                       Oh, the fires of hell are glowing
                          Is the grisly reaper mowing
                        Yes! The danger must be growing
                         For the rowers keep on rowing
                       And they're certainly not showing
                       Any signs that they are slowing!
                                Stop the boat!
 
                                Cake and Sodomy
 
                  I am the god of fuck, I am the god of fuck
                 Virgins sold in quantity, herded by heredity
                       Red neck burn out mid west mind,
                        who said date rape isn't kind?
                           Porno nation, evaluation
                       What's this time for segregation
             Libido, libido fascination, too much oral defecation
         White trash get down on your knees, time for cake and sodomy
                           Time for cake and sodomy
                 (I am the god of fuck, I am the god of fuck)
                VCR's and vaseline, tv-fucked by plastic queens
         Cash in hand and dick on screen, who said god was ever clean?
         Bible-belt round anglo-waste, putting sinners in their place
   Yeah, right, great if you're so good explain the shit stains on your
 face
         White trash get down on your knees, time for cake and sodomy
                           Time for cake and sodomy
 
                                   Lunch Box
 
                                  On we plow
               The big bully try to stick his finger in my chest
                     Try to tell me, tell me he's the best
                 But I don't really give a good goddamn cause
                   I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
                   I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
                   I got my lunchbox and I'm armed real well
                                I wanna grow up
                      I wanna be a big rock and roll star
                                I wanna grow up
                                  I wanna be
                            So no one fucks with me
              I got the pencils in my pocket, try to put me down
                          Wanna go out, gotta get out
             To the playground, gonna throw down at the playground
                                I wanna go out
                     Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
                     Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
                     Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
                     Next motherfucker gonna get my metal
              Pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow, pow pow pow
                                I wanna grow up
                      I wanna be a big rock and roll star
                                I wanna grow up
                                  I wanna be
                            So no one fucks with me
 
                                 Organ Grinder
 
                   I am the face of piss and shit and sugar
            I do a crooked little dance with my funny little monkey
                What I want, what I want is just your children
            I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being
                        Caliopenis envy from your daddy
               You're not gonna hear what he don't want to hear
                            What I say disgusts him
                     He wants to be me and that scares him
           Lets do a funny little dance with my funny little monkey
                                The black keys
                  Here is my real head, here is my real head
             I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
                             Here is my real head
                     They try to blink me not to think me
                          Don't want to bring me out
            I am the rotten teeth, my fists are lined with suckers
                 My prison skin's an eyesore mirror sketch pad
                                 I am your son
                                   Your dad
                                   Your fag
                                   Your fad
                  Here is my real head, here is my real head
             I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
                             Here is my real head
 
                                    Cyclops
 
                     Cyclops woman got one eye in her head
                       Mascera-clotted vision she is fed
                    Cyclops woman can't see nothing at all
                        She got a pin prick spiral hole
                     She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                     She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                       Cyclops woman dying in her shell
                    Guilt got her trapped in nailed in well
                     Cyclops woman is the eye of the world
                       Who's reflection's in the retina?
                     She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                     She can't see nothing, nothing at all
                               Dialate, dialate
 
                                   Dope Hat
 
                 I peek into the hole, I struggle for control
    The children love the show, but they fail to see the anguish in my
 eyes
                      Fail to see the anguish in my eyes
               I scratch around the brim, I let my mind give in
   The crowd begins to grin, but they seem to scream when darkness fills
 my
                                     eyes
         Seem to scream when darkness fills my eyes, it's no surprise
                  Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic
   My big top tricks will always make you happy, but we all know the hat
 is
                                  wearing me
             My bag is in the hat, it's filled with this and that
        My vision's getting fat, the rabbit's just a monkey in disguise
               Stars and pills and needles dance before our eyes
      They will bite the hand if it is slower than the quickness of their
                               scrutinizing eyes
                  Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic
   My big top tricks will always make you happy, but we all know the hat
 is
                                  wearing me
  Chicanery will always make you happy, but we all know the hat is wearing
 me
 
                                 Get Your Gunn
 
                          Goddamn your righteous hand
                              I eat innocent meat
                           The housewife I will beat
                            The profile I will kill
                           What you don't do I will
                            I bash myself to sleep
                           What you saw I will reap
                          I scar myself you will see
                              I wish I wasn't me
                             I am the little stick
                             You stir me into shit
                             I hate therefore I am
                          Goddamn your rightous hand
                               Goddamn, goddamn
                               Goddamn, goddamn
                         Pseudo-morals work real well
                        On the talk shows for the weak
                         But your selective judgements
                              And goodguy badges
                            Don't mean a fuck to me
                             I throw a little fit
                            I slit my teenage wrist
                           The most that I can learn
                          Is in records that you burn
                         Get your gunn, get your gunn
                         Get your gunn, get your gunn
                         Pseudo-morals work real well
                        On the talk shows for the weak
                         But your selective judgements
                              And goodguy badges
                            Don't mean a fuck to me
                                 I am the VHS
                           Record me with your fist
                         You want me to save the world
                            I'm just a little girl
                         Pseudo-morals work real well
                        On the talk shows for the weak
                         But your selective judgements
                              And goodguy badges
                            Don't mean a fuck to me
                         Get your gunn, get your gunn
                      Get your gunn, get your gunn... get
 
                              Wrapped in Plastic
 
                     Guilt is a snake we beat with a rake
                  To grow in our kitchen in the pies we bake
                    Feed it to us to squirm in our bellies
                  Twisting our guts make our spines to jelly
                          Stay, don't want to go now
                     Drove the children from their chores
                      Handcrafted housewives into whores
                     Fear of the beast is calling it near
            Creating what we're hating, it's only fear that is here
                          Stay, don't want to go now
                      Come into our home, won't you stay?
             I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
                      Come into our home, won't you stay?
             I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
                    I'm only as deep as the self that I dig
                   I'm only as sick as the stick in the pig
                     Thin and so white, thin and so white
                           Daddy tells the daughter
                        While mommy's sleeping at night
                 To wash away sin you must take off your skin
                 The righteous father wears the yellowest grin
                              Don't wanna go now
              Stay, don't wanna go now, stay, don't wanna go now
                      Come into our home, won't you stay?
             I know the steak is cold but it's wrapped in plastic
 
                                     Dogma
 
    Burn the witches, burn the witches, don't take time to sew your
 stiches
                      Burn the witches, burn the witches
          Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
                   You cannot sedate all the things you hate
   Burn your bridges, burn your bridges, don't take time to sew your
 stiches
                     Burn your bridges, burn your bridges
          Good is the thing that you favor, evil is your sour flavor
                   I don't need your hate, I decide my fate
                   You cannot sedate all the things you rape
 
                                  Sweet Tooth
 
                         Her heart shivers in my hand
                     She's melting on me like cotton candy
                      I make the faces that make you cry
                     I want you more when you're afraid of
                      My disease, disease is draining me
                     Anymore you're not so 'pretty please'
                        Disease, disease is draining me
                   I want you more when you're afraid of me
                          I will break you inside out
                          You are mine, you are mine
                          I will break you inside out
                          You are mine, you are mine
                       Her hair hangs in swollen strings
                   'm choking on her, it feels so sickening
                      I make the faces that make you cry
                     I want you more when you're afraid of
                      My disease, disease is draining me
                     Anymore you're not so pretty, please
                        Disease, disease is draining me
                   I want you more when you're afraid of me
                          I will break you inside out
                          You are mine, you are mine
 
                            Snake Eyes and Sissies
 
          Wrench is just a household God but I carry mine with pride
            I don't work but I can work with it to split your smile
       Run you down without a twitch, your car's just not as big as mine
      Tear the son out of your bitch and sprinkle your remains with lime
      I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
                                 Rollin' sixes
       I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
                         My afternoon's remote control
                          Daydream milk and genocide
              Tranquility with broken knees, silly putty enemies
                           Butter knife in your side
              What I got I got for free, middle finger technology
      What's yours is mine, yours is mine, told you fucker, yours is mine
                            Snake eyes for sissies
      I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
                                 Rollin' sixes
       I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
                          I am the pedophlle's dream
                             A messianic Peter Pan
    Just a boy, just a boy, just a little fucking boy, I can never be a
 man
      I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
                                 Rollin' sixes
       I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
      I ain't no workin' man, I do the best I can, I got the devil's hand
       I am the habit man, I use up all I can, I got the slacker's hand
                                (Oh no, Oh no)
 
                                   My Monkey
 
                             I had a little monkey
            I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
               Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
                           And now my monkey's dead
            At least he looks that way, but then again don't we all
                (what I make is what I am, I can't be forever)
                            I had a little a monkey
            I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
               Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
                           And now my monkey's dead
                              Poor little monkey
            'Make you...break you...make you...break you...lookout'
               (what I make is what I am, I can't live forever)
                          We are our own wicked gods
                         With little g's and big dicks
               Sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise
                            I had a little a monkey
            I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
               Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
                           And now my monkey's dead
              The primate's scream of consonance is a reflection
                         Of his own mind's dissonance
 
                                Misery Machine
 
         Man in the front got a sinister grin, careen down highway 666
     We wanna go, crush the slow, as the pitchfork bends the needles grow
         My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
       We're gonna ride to the abbey of thelema, to the abbey of thelema
                               Blood is pavement
   The grill in the front is my sinister grin, bugs in my teeth make me
 sick
                                   sick sick
           The objects may be larger than they appear in the mirror
         My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
       We're gonna ride to the abbey of thelema, to the abbey of thelema
                               Blood is pavement
                                   I am fueled by filth and fury
                   Do what I will, I will hurry there, there
         My arms are wheels, my legs are wheels, my blood is pavement
                               Blood is pavement
 
 
 WEll, there it is, Marilyn Manson's POAAF lyrics, for comments,
 corrections, etc,
 email me at   PSYCHOACOUSTIC@JUNO.COM	later, if anyone has the tab
 for snake eyes and sissies please send it to me. later, and sorry for the
 screwed up writing but this archaic email service just screws up text
 stuff
 
 Eric Newman
 

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