1. |
Calm Before The Storm
04:44
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2. |
Cut 'Em Up
04:52
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Consumed by a feeling like possession or a curse
Living or dying, which one’s worse?
Kept on their beat through the chorus and the verse
Life is just a stick up man pulling at your purse
It’s another world in which you never immersed
Kind of an attraction driving by in a hearse
If ever was a choice where you put yourself first
Life is no oasis some will die from the thirst
Reason to live but for dying got a list
Fists in the air when you cut that wrist
Cut em up cut em up
Up up up up up up
Reason to live but for dying got a list
Fists in the air when you cut that wrist
Cut em up cut em up
Up up up up up up
X1
Operating vantage point no perspective
Suddenly at death you’re getting reflective
It feels like this insight is rather selective
Caught a cold case now you’re playing detective
Being obtuse just refuse to see the side
At the the very least wanna go and run and hide
Hole in your rationale 6 feet wide
Turn the disdain away from the inside
(now you) cus and you cus and you makin’ a fuss
he Had to have known he’d be killing us
Perfect little johnny who woulda’ thunk?
Got himself a taste for the junk
For the junk
Junk junk junk junk junk junk
X1
Easy way out and suffer no more
Close garage door and lie on the floor
Easy to clean if you see what I mean
Take all that funk and pack it in the back in the trunk
In the trunk
Trunk trunk trunk trunk trunk trunk
Consumed by a feeling like possession or a curse
Living or dying, which one’s worse?
Reason to live but for dying got a list
Fists in the air when we’re cutting our wrists
Cut em up cut em up
Up up up up up up
Reason to live but for dying got a list
Fists in the air when we’re cutting our wrists
Cut em up cut em up
Up up up up up up
After sample
Saw all the signs just ignoring them
His own wife and kids were just boring him
Wasn’t taking meds he was storing them
Now in hindsight they abhorring him
Still you’re sitting on your hands and wail why and why
Threaded the needle just to stick it in your eye
Really hard to tell why a young one wanna die?
One little caveat to see it got to try
If over a coffin was the last time you kissed
Make a list of every time you raised a fist and cut it up
X3
Avoid what is real as you navigate and steer
I’m saying this is now I’m saying this is here
Like most my points probably you are missing them
I’m not glorifying shit, I’m fucking listening
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3. |
Purist Tourist
05:02
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4. |
No Touch Backs
05:35
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Bite your tongue and hesitate
The goodness that you see is always innate
Don’t blame it all on fate
When you’re both the jailor and inmate
You can cry that the deck is stacked, but when I touch you then you can’t touch me back cuz there are no touchbacks
No touchbacks, no touchbacks
You can’t find your place is this life just because you yelled shotgun
no holiday in the sun
Doesn’t even matter that you won (when) you could never play with us just for fun
It wasn’t very fun
We can not rotate and you are not the sun
Find some solace knowing that it is over and done
It wasn’t very fun
It was no fun
No one remembers who it was that won
Shoot a toy gun, I said your dead, so you have to fall
Rules getting lost in the midst of this all
No one impartial to call
I said freeze, not sleaze, didn’t pass you disease but despite your incessant pleas, you can’t touch me cuz
I just touched you so you can’t touch me back
No touch backs, no touch backs
Stepped on your mother’s crack and now she has to smoke that smack because she can’t find a vein and none of this will kill the pain
You can take your toys and go whore cuz I don’t wanna play this game anymore
Waiting with some smart-ass quip
And a pouting lip someone sunk your battle ship
You’re a psycho not a sadist if you take no pleasure in the whip
Never any carrot just a stick and everything you own has a poison tip
It’s the sort of skill set one might hone growing up only known as the “kid playing sorry alone’Hear that loud and ringing tone? Go back to staring at your fucking phone
I been called a fag a lot more than you so the foot isn’t on the other shoe
Can’t disguise my apathy? well how about you? I said knock- knock, but you never said who’s there, never even tried to pretend to care, so don’t be taken aback when I say that you can’t touch me back, never even get a chance
I’m not coming back,
never coming back
never coming back
I just touched you but you can touch me cuz I’m never coming back
Isn’t it whack?
Proving I didn’t take your ball doesn’t put your back against the wall it’s only a chance to marvel that you so so so sosmall
Ever so small,
You can go play with your ball alone
You cannot atone
Can never be shown
Kinda’ perverse that I’m the type who prefers to die alone
it’s a fucked-up game of telephone,
what did he say?
just the other day?
red rover red rover this is the worst sleep over I’m always game over, it’s not 2 player when I’m always dead, and you’re the one they touch when you’re first to bed,
shame is a game that you play when you’re too tame to call it by name
didn’t bite your tongue or hesitate
the goodness you missed was all innate,
blamed it all on fate
don’t need a reward to choke down that pill
simply do it cuz
no one else will
no one else will
do it cuz no one else will
Nothing left to kill,
Nothing left to kill
no one reads a will, ‘til the bodies lying still
Miss your final chance to cry over a spill.
Nothing left to kill
Nothing left to kill
Nothing left to kill
Nothing left to kill
I touched you now hold still
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The Fire Brigade Portland, Oregon
The Fire Brigade are reluctant Americans who make strange hip hop as they wander the Earth in the Early Apocalypse. G'Odd and his crew man the crystal mines of 2105, 24-7. Boxhead Walker is a smooth-talking rounder without a care in the world. The Battalion Chief issues commands from a nest of synthesizers and empty bottles at Mission Control. Flame on, bitches. ... more
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