| When's go? | |
| I've been sittin here | |
| I been plotting on the world | |
| waiting for the right right now | |
| Waiting for the minute when I can get all the way in it and make mine now | |
| Flip that low life round | |
| strip that crown | |
| take down heads trying to wear that dead | |
| Yeah, let me kill that | |
| I hit it running, ain't nothing catching me, that's that | |
| Matchless | |
| Match to the mattress | |
| restless | |
| dreaming | |
| I never believe what I'm seeing | |
| Own world | |
| Own yours | |
| Phone home, own up, get unstuck reeling | |
| Sights high, eye-line low | |
| I might crow (bangarang) | |
| Let it go | |
| But I've been sitting here | |
| I've been watching | |
| Come close caution | |
| Cut throat, get a rope, lost em... | |
| As if you had him in the first place | |
| I've been a rat but I ain't never seen a cage in the worst way | |
| I crave days where the work's play | |
| but I can't seem to satiate, or get away, or get it straight, or get okay with okay | |
| No way | |
| Let me demonstrate | |
| Other shit, own way, loving it all day | |
| Coming with the content | |
| Coming with the nonstop | |
| [SIMS] | |
| Coiled in the grass blades make blood boil | |
| Sling snake oil singing these are the last days | |
| These are the things that will ease your pain | |
| These are the keys to the pearly gates | |
| Trade your wage and he'll learn your name | |
| Earn your place, all it takes | |
| They set the stakes with loaded dice | |
| shout on high that the end is nigh, but I don't mind | |
| I don't deal in fear, I'm so right here | |
| so right now, they got no idea | |
| They over-blow the slope then throw the folk a rope to cope control the soul like dope | |
| They're comatose in warming glow, froth and foam | |
| I can feel the storm forming though | |
| Fate and time is all a made-up line | |
| It's all a made-up line, it's all a state of mind | |
| [BEAK] (Hook) | |
| And the roof caved in and the porch lights froze | |
| And the woods lay thin and the torch light grows | |
| You may find yourself in a corpse-like pose as you go | |
| And the tombs spread out and the birch still grows | |
| And the fumes head south and the earth will slow | |
| You may find yourself on a search for gold as you go | |
| [MIKE] | |
| And it ain't October | |
| bak'tuns and roses stolen with bare hands will touch back | |
| Crosshairs to hooked snares a tough catch | |
| Got a breath if nobody else sees it | |
| Gonna starve if nobody else eats me | |
| Dead in the water got my knees to the gut rot | |
| Rings in the fire just a breeze to a sunspot | |
| hmm | |
| And it ain't all over | |
| Nights are longer before them days get colder | |
| Run home, little soldier | |
| This ain't the war you're fighting it's the Red October | |
| Ughh! | |
| And you don't have choices | |
| We don't either cuz we got these voices | |
| But I'm scared when I yell | |
| I'm selling em all poison, broken toys, bones and raw noises | |
| So I hold my own | |
| Hold my word, keep my sword in stone | |
| I swear I'm getting it all wrong | |
| not the end of the world just the end to this song | |
| [CECIL] | |
| And it goes… Thanks for the invite | |
| Thanks for the memories | |
| Thanks for the insight | |
| We pray that you'll never leave | |
| We'll tell stories by a maglite (never leave) | |
| We're gonna pick up on a fair fight (never leave) | |
| And every morning, noon and midnight | |
| we'll be torn and bruised from fistfights | |
| May be the oldest news and dissed right to our faces | |
| …so lets take flight | |
| We've been a part of the chain for so long | |
| Been a part of the spark of the flame that goes wrong | |
| We've been a part for a day and wrote songs about | |
| and we could go on about it | |
| But, the long and the short is… | |
| we got no shortage | |
| We got our pain on payroll | |
| paint on the canvas with the face of an angel (Hook) |
| When' s go? | |
| I' ve been sittin here | |
| I been plotting on the world | |
| waiting for the right right now | |
| Waiting for the minute when I can get all the way in it and make mine now | |
| Flip that low life round | |
| strip that crown | |
| take down heads trying to wear that dead | |
| Yeah, let me kill that | |
| I hit it running, ain' t nothing catching me, that' s that | |
| Matchless | |
| Match to the mattress | |
| restless | |
| dreaming | |
| I never believe what I' m seeing | |
| Own world | |
| Own yours | |
| Phone home, own up, get unstuck reeling | |
| Sights high, eyeline low | |
| I might crow bangarang | |
| Let it go | |
| But I' ve been sitting here | |
| I' ve been watching | |
| Come close caution | |
| Cut throat, get a rope, lost em... | |
| As if you had him in the first place | |
| I' ve been a rat but I ain' t never seen a cage in the worst way | |
| I crave days where the work' s play | |
| but I can' t seem to satiate, or get away, or get it straight, or get okay with okay | |
| No way | |
| Let me demonstrate | |
| Other shit, own way, loving it all day | |
| Coming with the content | |
| Coming with the nonstop | |
| SIMS | |
| Coiled in the grass blades make blood boil | |
| Sling snake oil singing these are the last days | |
| These are the things that will ease your pain | |
| These are the keys to the pearly gates | |
| Trade your wage and he' ll learn your name | |
| Earn your place, all it takes | |
| They set the stakes with loaded dice | |
| shout on high that the end is nigh, but I don' t mind | |
| I don' t deal in fear, I' m so right here | |
| so right now, they got no idea | |
| They overblow the slope then throw the folk a rope to cope control the soul like dope | |
| They' re comatose in warming glow, froth and foam | |
| I can feel the storm forming though | |
| Fate and time is all a madeup line | |
| It' s all a madeup line, it' s all a state of mind | |
| BEAK Hook | |
| And the roof caved in and the porch lights froze | |
| And the woods lay thin and the torch light grows | |
| You may find yourself in a corpselike pose as you go | |
| And the tombs spread out and the birch still grows | |
| And the fumes head south and the earth will slow | |
| You may find yourself on a search for gold as you go | |
| MIKE | |
| And it ain' t October | |
| bak' tuns and roses stolen with bare hands will touch back | |
| Crosshairs to hooked snares a tough catch | |
| Got a breath if nobody else sees it | |
| Gonna starve if nobody else eats me | |
| Dead in the water got my knees to the gut rot | |
| Rings in the fire just a breeze to a sunspot | |
| hmm | |
| And it ain' t all over | |
| Nights are longer before them days get colder | |
| Run home, little soldier | |
| This ain' t the war you' re fighting it' s the Red October | |
| Ughh! | |
| And you don' t have choices | |
| We don' t either cuz we got these voices | |
| But I' m scared when I yell | |
| I' m selling em all poison, broken toys, bones and raw noises | |
| So I hold my own | |
| Hold my word, keep my sword in stone | |
| I swear I' m getting it all wrong | |
| not the end of the world just the end to this song | |
| CECIL | |
| And it goes Thanks for the invite | |
| Thanks for the memories | |
| Thanks for the insight | |
| We pray that you' ll never leave | |
| We' ll tell stories by a maglite never leave | |
| We' re gonna pick up on a fair fight never leave | |
| And every morning, noon and midnight | |
| we' ll be torn and bruised from fistfights | |
| May be the oldest news and dissed right to our faces | |
| so lets take flight | |
| We' ve been a part of the chain for so long | |
| Been a part of the spark of the flame that goes wrong | |
| We' ve been a part for a day and wrote songs about | |
| and we could go on about it | |
| But, the long and the short is | |
| we got no shortage | |
| We got our pain on payroll | |
| paint on the canvas with the face of an angel Hook |
| When' s go? | |
| I' ve been sittin here | |
| I been plotting on the world | |
| waiting for the right right now | |
| Waiting for the minute when I can get all the way in it and make mine now | |
| Flip that low life round | |
| strip that crown | |
| take down heads trying to wear that dead | |
| Yeah, let me kill that | |
| I hit it running, ain' t nothing catching me, that' s that | |
| Matchless | |
| Match to the mattress | |
| restless | |
| dreaming | |
| I never believe what I' m seeing | |
| Own world | |
| Own yours | |
| Phone home, own up, get unstuck reeling | |
| Sights high, eyeline low | |
| I might crow bangarang | |
| Let it go | |
| But I' ve been sitting here | |
| I' ve been watching | |
| Come close caution | |
| Cut throat, get a rope, lost em... | |
| As if you had him in the first place | |
| I' ve been a rat but I ain' t never seen a cage in the worst way | |
| I crave days where the work' s play | |
| but I can' t seem to satiate, or get away, or get it straight, or get okay with okay | |
| No way | |
| Let me demonstrate | |
| Other shit, own way, loving it all day | |
| Coming with the content | |
| Coming with the nonstop | |
| SIMS | |
| Coiled in the grass blades make blood boil | |
| Sling snake oil singing these are the last days | |
| These are the things that will ease your pain | |
| These are the keys to the pearly gates | |
| Trade your wage and he' ll learn your name | |
| Earn your place, all it takes | |
| They set the stakes with loaded dice | |
| shout on high that the end is nigh, but I don' t mind | |
| I don' t deal in fear, I' m so right here | |
| so right now, they got no idea | |
| They overblow the slope then throw the folk a rope to cope control the soul like dope | |
| They' re comatose in warming glow, froth and foam | |
| I can feel the storm forming though | |
| Fate and time is all a madeup line | |
| It' s all a madeup line, it' s all a state of mind | |
| BEAK Hook | |
| And the roof caved in and the porch lights froze | |
| And the woods lay thin and the torch light grows | |
| You may find yourself in a corpselike pose as you go | |
| And the tombs spread out and the birch still grows | |
| And the fumes head south and the earth will slow | |
| You may find yourself on a search for gold as you go | |
| MIKE | |
| And it ain' t October | |
| bak' tuns and roses stolen with bare hands will touch back | |
| Crosshairs to hooked snares a tough catch | |
| Got a breath if nobody else sees it | |
| Gonna starve if nobody else eats me | |
| Dead in the water got my knees to the gut rot | |
| Rings in the fire just a breeze to a sunspot | |
| hmm | |
| And it ain' t all over | |
| Nights are longer before them days get colder | |
| Run home, little soldier | |
| This ain' t the war you' re fighting it' s the Red October | |
| Ughh! | |
| And you don' t have choices | |
| We don' t either cuz we got these voices | |
| But I' m scared when I yell | |
| I' m selling em all poison, broken toys, bones and raw noises | |
| So I hold my own | |
| Hold my word, keep my sword in stone | |
| I swear I' m getting it all wrong | |
| not the end of the world just the end to this song | |
| CECIL | |
| And it goes Thanks for the invite | |
| Thanks for the memories | |
| Thanks for the insight | |
| We pray that you' ll never leave | |
| We' ll tell stories by a maglite never leave | |
| We' re gonna pick up on a fair fight never leave | |
| And every morning, noon and midnight | |
| we' ll be torn and bruised from fistfights | |
| May be the oldest news and dissed right to our faces | |
| so lets take flight | |
| We' ve been a part of the chain for so long | |
| Been a part of the spark of the flame that goes wrong | |
| We' ve been a part for a day and wrote songs about | |
| and we could go on about it | |
| But, the long and the short is | |
| we got no shortage | |
| We got our pain on payroll | |
| paint on the canvas with the face of an angel Hook |
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