1. |
||||
|
He’s just distracted by the past because he’s waiting in line
He’s got a swastika tattoo, he’s got a daughter behind
He says he’s “not a bigot,” he’s “just led a colorful life”
He’s go a problem with the way that things been going this time
He guesses:
“I was the key demographic,
you were plaster and static.”
White men feeling the decay come out to protect the stupid motherfucker dynasty
They just embarrass themselves
Don’t wanna be left out
“Nobody matters like me!”
Well everybody’s just been living it up —
Stealing it from me
The piles of unread books on my bedroom floor…
They say it all for me
Well I’m just too busy
They don’t give me time to breathe
Saturday we’re going steady
Sunday I’m alone, you’re free
|
||||
2. |
Mantra
03:40
|
|||
|
They’re calling for the end, but no one’s taking it
They need some entertainment, but nobody else is faking it
Just like the brain races the body to death, we got a vision for the future path
The future age says we’re running out of sages
thisfuturesagesays:
“become weak,
forgive the heat,
watch them burn,
fill the urn”
Grew an illiteracy power field!
I fertilize it with the weight loss pills…
They’re railing Prozac in the basement ‘cause they don’t know how to feel…
Come forth my children, heed the call of hate!
We’ve got Ohio on barbiturates!
Somebody stick it to the caliphate — connect that power plug into his veins.
Become weak.
Forgive the heat.
Watch them burn.
Fill the urn.
|
||||
3. |
Character
03:45
|
|||
|
You were so invested
The pool has been infested
It’s people eating people
And someone else’s ego
Is making you a target
A military target
These systematic artists
Are making you a target
I still remember all the corporate spies watching me
Tried to synthesize my sense of self but they’re still missing me
I feel so dead, but I know that the artist is staring at my face
The truth conceptualized a lie machine — he touches your waist
We keep the gods in line.
Power is an ugly shape.
I keep myself divine, mortal sage to mortal sage.
We’ve got a pressure mine waiting for the magistrate.
I keep myself divine and mortal.
Life, pain, death: just a phase.
Try: light yourself ablaze.
We keep the gods in line.
Power is in ugly shape.
I keep myself divine, mortal sage to mortal sage.
We’ve got a pressure mine waiting for the magistrate.
I keep myself divine and mortal.
|
||||
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