Hell & Hunger Lyrics: Henry Biggs Music: Henry Biggs and Mylene Farmer Stop, sink slow down sell your soul son something strong in silence but still you don't stand a chance so stupid, bust, break down slump those shoulders, crumple Keep to myself and I'm a lay low cold as a steel blade on a scalpel silent violence, I don't talk my quiet cuts the night like a tomahawk Holdin it in, sittin' with it, gettin' it to burn hard not gonna be lettin it go, control, I'm frontin ice cold Come on booooy you aint nothing, and you ain't never gonna be nothin relax Emotion grows higher inside of me but I hold on hard, and don't let it free I'm keepin this, I'm asleep with this anger is my energy makes a blistering fire that inspires me stomach growls and howls like a comanchee caged rage is what I'm about this hatred I'm a hold, lord knows when I'll let it out REFRAIN hell and hunger makes me stronger heartbeat pounds like thunder hell and hunger sometimes I wonder if I can hold back much longer cuz I'm like a time bomb, bustin to blow ready to rumble, pumpin to explode restraining, containing, downing my rage taut like a tightwire close to the edge cool to the touch but quicker to the trigger drown myself down with rounds of malt liquor but sometime in my mind noise gets so loud  jacks my cool I can't keep it down thinkin bout the stinkin lotta nothin I was given this messed up dead stop crater that I live in and my head boils, teeth fists clenched no escape from the rape and back-street stench my skin's peeled, muscles drawn tightly the sting of anything might ignite me REFRAIN filled with hunger, eating my poverty burning from the cold world that surrounds me swallowing hatred, embracing my rage hating any love from above or any place housed by the clouds that thicken my hide time stops still, laughs and rolls by Give it up, come on, give it up, yeahh fatigue pushes me weakness drives me on clothed by the stripped moan of a ghetto song calm rage flows through my veins cold fever forever rides on my brain the pulse of my nine lives thrives on all this ready at any time to pop a death kiss word from my world a day down my way yo I say REFRAIN you just aint never gonna learn, man, you ain't here to do nothing slide yourself back home on your belly, boy snake, you never did have a chance unless you wanna dance with the devil REFRAIN

The Idea . . . Pregnant people get strange tastes. I was pregnant with poverty. Pregnant with dirt and pregnant with smells that made people turn away, pregnant with cold and pregnant with shoes that were never bought for me, pregnant with five other people in my bed and no Daddy in the next room, and pregnant with hunger. Paste doesn't taste too bad when you're hungry. Dick Gregory; An Autobiography, p. 42 Explanation: Imagine being "pregnant with hunger" -- is this easy to see? It's this type of paradoxical line that Headmess plays with in "Hell & Hunger." Notice especially the last verse: fatigue pushes me, weakness drives me on clothed by the stripped moan of a ghetto song calm rage flows through my veins cold fever forever rides on my brain the pulse of my nine lives thrives on all this ready at any time to pop a death kiss word from my world a day down my way yo I say These are all paradoxical lines, adding to the sense of difficulty of a life of poverty and hunger in which you are forced to eat your poverty. Confused? Click here to send in your questions.