Secret Soviet Ghosts (Michael the Archangel)

«I hope you give a fuck if I’m down on you, but do what you gotta do
There’s no room for revolutionaries with that kind of attitude»
I said with war in my teeth, «baby, we’re the bad news, baby we’re the bad news»
So blessed be this heart attack, I’m imminent danger
Read me your riot act, I’m Attica’s painter
And I’ll show you fear in a handful of dust, cause that’s all my heart is
Fucking shot and cathartic
And I am an artist with my fists, but I am Hemingway with bricks —
How did I survive college? When I was best friends with ruin, her name was
Lauren
Us hard luck beaten poets
And she deserved better than ‘vigilant threes', she deserved better than me
So blessed be this heart attack, I’m imminent danger
Read me your riot act, I’m Attica’s painter
And I’ll show you fear in a handful of dust, cause that’s all my heart is
Fucking shot and cathartic
Think the last time I saw her we’d left our hotel room and an eighth in the
bible
Swore she wouldn’t drink again
Well, ‘wasted'
All of her hard earned wages with nothing to show
Says ‘I'm better off dead or alone'
Or alone
Or alone
Better off dead or alone
So blessed be this heart attack, I’m imminent danger
So read me your riot act, I’m Attica’s painter
And I’ll show you fear in a handful of dust
'Cause baby, we’re the bad news
'Cause baby, we’re the bad news