Swordplay & Pierre The Motionless - When The Hurricane Comes | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Swordplay & Pierre The Motionless
• When The Hurricane Comes

[Verse I]
I’ve lost it all often
Put me in the Washington office of a coffin that I belong in then
I’m stuck in my stock options and politics
I’m too talkative, if I may begin
Because these common men
They never get caught caterwauling and off the wall
Throwing caution to the wind
Or pretend Molotov's at apostles
All they want’s a bottle of klonopins
I’m swallowing the toxins in
Run out of oxygen
Running a thousand city blocks in my moccasins
I wander in, up into the center of a city grid hollering olly olly oxen
I speak to the fossils
I dig em up and dust em off
Down to the joint where the lone god hobbles
I turn em into novels
Spit em back out from the back of my tobacco painted tonsils every day
I got a gift shop sling shot
I point it at these robot cop drones now flown above
I’m setting up shopping carts in parking lots to settle with the winds when the hurricane comes…

[Hook]
I’m living in a prison with invisible friends
Who dream of freedom because it does not exist
I will not resist
Make the arrest
I’m a victim of a problematic radical thought process
I predicted the cataclysm: a typical vision left on in my mind in hypnotic display
I will not be okay
I will not be okay
I will not be okay
Make the arrest

[Verse II]
Because common sense is an inadequate defense tactic non-applicable to the digital model and modern day killers control their missiles on a desk top
I’m looking at the box like “is this thing on?”
We’re living in the middle of a prison where the wealth is hither and thither and yon
Broadcast the hologram, a cinematic vision of a pop icon
I sing a love song to the activists who don’t put their money where their mouth is
Or talk about Vietnam in a Pentagon food court
No, you know better than that that venom attached to the militant’s split lip
Pacifists with the laughing gas set sail for the Baghdad discotheque
A capitalist free market suicidal cybernetic invention
Fiddle with chemical alignment and speak my mind when I’m in suspension
But don’t mention that I’m a mess
I’m a criminal in distress
Put in the kennel, I’m a ketamine-colored enemy combatant with no contest
Make progress like weather machines and atomic bombs
I hope to Gasoline that I find my planet one day

[Hook]

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