The Legion of Doom - Hands Down Gandhi | Текст песни

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• The Legion of Doom
• Hands Down Gandhi

Up on a soap box... yelling into megaphones.

Killing hard rocks using carcasses as stepping stones.

Had to promise that I'd stop holding my marches.

The day that Chris Columbus got crucified on golden arches.

But my pedestal was too tall to climb off,

In fact, that's the reason for the high horse.

And from up here I can see the marines and hummers on a conquest,

Underdogs with wonderbras in a push up contest,

All for the sake of military recruitment.

It felt like Kent State the way they targeted the students,

I galloped off whistling "Ohio."

The rest of them, stuck doing stand up at a cricket convention.

Who would they die for?

Is it the same machine that leaves the quality of life poor? (Breathe in for luck)

An abominable colony of cyborgs. (Breathe in so deep)

Clogging up the property that I called with eye sores. (This air is blessed, you share with me)

That clever ad campaign ain't worth

The time taken from minimum wage labor.

I don't care how half naked or fake she looks,

She smells like dirty cash and aged paper books.

Who would she die for? (Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em)

Who would she die for? (Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em)

Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember.....

Now it's whistle blower vs. the pistol holder;

Case dismissed, they'll lock you up and throw away the key witness.

Justice is the whim of a judge, check his chest density.

It leaves much room for error, and the rest left to destiny.

The West Memphis 3 lost paradise,

It's death penalty vs. suicidal tendencies.

All I wanted was a fucking Pepsi.

Institution.

"Making you think you're crazy is a billion dollar industry".

If they could sell sanity in a bottle they'd be charging for compressed air,

and marketing healthcare.

They demonize welfare.

Middle class eliminated, rich get richer

till the poor get educated.

But some of y'all still haven’t grown into your face,

And your face doesn't quite match your head.

And I'm waiting for a brain to fill the dead space that's left,

You're all, "give me ethnicity or give me dreads!"

Trustafundian rebel without a cause for alarm,

Because when push turns to shove

You jump into your forefather's arms.

He's a banker. You're part of the system,

Off go the dreadlocks, in comes the income.

The briefcase, the freebase, the sickness, the symptom. (Stay quiet, stay near, stay close they can't hear)

When the cameras start rolling stay the fuck outta the picture, pilgrim. (So we can get some)

Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em.

Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember.....

Mr. Save The World... spare us the details.

Save the females from losing interest.

And Miss Save The Universe... You're a damsel in distress.

Tied down to a track of isolated incidents

Generalize my disease, I need a taste of what it's like

Living off the fat of kings. I'll play the scab at your hunger strike.

Slow down Gandhi, you're killin'em.

One love, one life, one too many victims.

Republicrat, Democran, one party system.

Media goes in a frenzy,

They're stripped of their credentials.

Presidential candidates can't debate over this instrumental.

Let 'em freestyle, winner takes all,

When the music’s dead I'll have Ted Nugent’s head hangin' on my wall.

Kill one of ours, we'll kill one of yours.

With some friendly fire, that’s a funny term, like civil war.

Six in the morning, police at my crib.

Now my nights consists of two toothpicks and eyelids.

The crucifix and vitamins, music that is

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