Swordplay - When the Hurricane Comes - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

When the Hurricane Comes

Swordplay

Tap Water

20.06.2013

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Tekst piosenki
[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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