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lyrics
Since the summer of 07 someones been severed,
whatever, forever we're all divided,
S'all better,
the rhetoric, spoken out open and choked on it,
I hung a coat on it, turned my back to the folklore, fuck you all with it...
This tradition of sticking thick and thin in committed-ness is ridiculous it's prisoning,
just sentencing the sentences helps to make sense of it,
and pretending to be anything else would be insensitive...
- Give it em all and I'm over the wall now I'm down and I'm out in the open, look back and I'm broken from the fact I got trapped in a packet of jokers and after the smoke and all these jokes have faded all the walls been talking ages they've told me things that I ain't thought of lately,
in hindsight I think a hand or a shoulder is all I needed,
blind guy with a right to a friend or a break a pre emptive strike right to the skull of a cunt right to a frightened full of himself gullible fucking bell pointing fingers and laughing like everyone else
I Simmered down and out and thats how I found out I that I could see the lies
I simmered down and out and that's how I found out that I could see the lies
I simmered down and out to find out that I could see and hear lies fly by between mine and this guys eyes the sheer size and how hard he's tried to imply to me he's an ally right?
Breaking the sockets of knuckles on rock walls, been dropped whole in a hell hole,
So fuck it I've lost hope and mangled the handles on locked doors
its important to rest though
know before each and all tests hope I make it a mission decision to listen to risen divisions and those who all say so - my head's in a halo thats been painted on hoods so I stay low d'ya know I prefer to live in the floods to put out the fires and payloads?
It seems like swords are broadest called to carve the way forward at least one swipe of mine is primed to turn the fucking place over
I had to hold a phone full of fake phony crones
didn't wanna fall so I took it to this stony horde of grown only in form so with thoughts alone I drawn rings round these brain dead and homely clones
- You'll not ever hold me close to the fire and toast my entire attire to boast how you exposed my wires,
they remain the same; close to the chest I'm suggesting keeping what's left'll be the real Intelligence test
- they'd pick at the carcass like they're sharks in the darkest parts of starkness, the question mark comes not from the arc of the bite but why are they are barkers?
Untether a proud touty pound for pound loud mouth shouty now and see the clown out of town unbound by the things you found out now!
The law of all averages demands we see all the savages lined up and all chained like traitors on the road behind the carriages...
Damaging everything ever seen never clean never been
nothing but enemies and once again jealousy's descending on me...