1. |
Hallmark
04:23
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How can you wander and suffer so carelessly
Weighed down and conquered by guilt so pitifully?
You can’t go down and rest in this filth.
Life’s a supernova
Short, fantastic.
It never repeats itself.
You aren't caught in the middle
You are an outlier waiting to implode.
Your conscience isn't a riddle
It's only a joke.
You beat yourself up as if misery brings relief.
It is a ritual
Purifying your soul with grief.
Forfeit this sacred rite.
One day you'll realize
You walk your own path,
Kick the ragged stones to the right.
Just let threat of sin die
It is intangible, unintelligible,
But a consuming ghost
Feeding on your desires.
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2. |
Brittle Bodies
04:44
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It's suicidal how
We can place much importance on
Dividing every second
To discover that we have tripped
And trampled over beds of annuals
We then straighten...
Straighten our brittle bodies and in time
We will come back to these mistakes.
How can we discount that our eyes can stop for a crack
And challenge another to pierce a soul with emotion?
Eyelids cannot hide how tired an e’er evolving being can become,
But we can say for now
The occasional rest can be
As euphoric
As the latest medicine that makes dreaming impossible.
We then straighten our brittle bodies.
I have to fuck around with progression
Or else I'll lose my hold on you.
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3. |
Matador
05:01
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I am just too old to care
For the dawning of a new age,
Too cynical to watch in fear
The return of an old sage,
But I can still sit back and relax admiring your imagination
The common thought that you’ll be saved in time of Revelation.
Moments that we all share
Drunk and fretful are singled out
In dreamer’s talk the peace of youth
Is implicit when we all see the truth.
I see through my childish faults
As I watch my skin wrinkle.
We start as blank slates terrorized
These things are never simple.
It’s a complicated formula
Inconsistent and strangely surreal.
I tried to iron out the kinks
Of all I thought was real.
As courageous as we are
No wonder how we fail.
We are destined to fall apart
Finding a needle in hay bale.
We are called to arms in this world.
We are calmed and intoxicated
By life’s poisonous ale.
Our minds battle evil tricks.
Can we ever get along like this?
Are we charging towards a white flag stained blood red
Or are we the spectators instead?
Our minds covet evil tricks
As we pick up momentum.
Oh yeah:
In life the matador and the bull are just the same
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4. |
Opaque
04:00
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There is a message written by ancient men
We give it reverence.
Our ideologies evolve, but we obey
Without a wonder of the truth or if it should stay.
We decided it was clearer to keep it that way.
Carve round the sculpture
Whittle down the piece of wood
Until there’s nothing left.
There’s truth in nothingness,
In sweeping up the dust,
And muddling the clarity
Of every new day
Perhaps we would better off with something opaque.
Why don't we decide to keep it opaque?
I saw right through you with my lazy third eye,
But I don’t want to speak new truths right through this old pen
Perhaps we would better off with something opaque,
But I don’t want to speak new truths right through this old pen.
It’s easier to show you fear
Then let you know I couldn’t care less
So I just leave it opaque
Spiders will weave their webs
While men deceive men,
So you can call it truth
And to pretend it's okay.
You can make believe
I’ll pretend to play.
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