Tuesday, April 10, 2012


Nowadays I feel like I'm on a backtrack
The stage is spinning backwards, the player's a little out of wack.
Give me drips of water in a cage like a lab rat
The music's all in minor key, my clothes are all in black.

Say I look like a funeral, well maybe I am.
Got my lips sealed  tight like the shell of a clam
I give a jab to the grotesque fingers of Uncle Sam,
Bang my head on Heaven's door like a battering ram

I'm trapped inside the unknowable “why”
Kneeling in the middle of a dust storm in Dubai,
with sand caked in my eye so I can't even cry,
Is execution the punishment for wanting to die?

If the Kingdom is here, why do its windows have bars?
If the doctor is healing, why do I have scars?
If there's Heaven above, why do we just see a shard?
If we're covered in love, why are we fighting so hard?

We're livin' in a world where Marines pee on corpses
Millionaires in porches control our portion
The 99% don't even care about the forces
Beyond the numbing drugs that the government endorses

So busy with your sex and your money and divorces
And stuffing your face with burgers made of horses
And of course it's something where we're all involved
The rappers and the ministers can't be absolved.

But when I stare in the face of these demons, I feel defeated
How could the vomit on this earth be deleted?
What is it in this world that goes the most needed?
I know you won't show, but at least you might tweet it.

Hashtag “love?” Altruistic intentions
They might go beyond your i-god inventions
But the cybernetic world has a 3 second attention
So I feel the apprehension as I stand in dissension.

Now my eyes are looking wetter than yours, and a bit redder
Like a down-hill sledder, I'm partying double-header.
Maybe I don't follow all the rules to the letter
and the godly can't stand the smell of smoke on my sweater.

Outside I'm like steel, but there's wounds inside guarded
Can't help but feel completely disheartened
Like there's no way in hell that my mistakes could be pardoned
But maybe above the sun there's something getting started.

Is there something left for me beneath all the marine pee?
Can't understand the plan, it's so dark I can't see.
So cold I can't breath, So loud I can't hear
Is this dream of power just a regime of fear?

Smeared with the blood and confusion and tears
of the suffering around us, but we try to steer clear.
Take a look at the world inside the burning mirror
and scream through the smoke “the Kingdom is near.”

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