Sole & The Skyrider Band Sound Of Head On Concrete
I get's no realer than these imposters in your face
You seem like a nice kid, beware of the monsters that
you chase
I've chased my tail, through Adam Smith's greatest
plantation
And when they mock me, diss on my creation
If your not Disney Club enough, reality can break your
strive
Son, it's not defined by who they offend and why
If you know your enemies, you know yourself
If you have no enemies, you're nobody
Better to be nobody than every man, I'm not like you
I talk with my hands and avoid them on a molecular
level
These are tears of the machines of the gods
Couldn't be any worse even world was...
These are the tears of the machines of the gods
Couldn't be any worse even if the world was gone
You're either with me or against me, either stone me or
defend me
You can exude demons daily, but still feel not empty
Christian lady at Pizza Hut - you say "God had his
hands on me"
I wonder if he still does?
If he is he must be strangling me with his magnifying
glass
Pointing fire at my feet, "I love the way you dance and
you cry, while you're dying the street"
I try to write topical songs, but ideas, they rain on
me
When I think about life it's good, if you don't care
about anything
No pigs in my blood, only the cold taste of rain
Refreshing until my teeth fall out, determined to live
life on these terms
Many will burn to their closeness, seek not to die of
heroin overdosses
Caught a few rides with vultures when I needed a plane
And where we fell, even the rocks forgot our names
Used to be a big mouth ego-maniac, never listened a lot
When I visit the Arab world, we'll throw a bomb into
the parking lot
Want to live on the edge, not get sucked into the abyss
looking for life in the cracks of the walls
You could say I drift between this world and one we've
already destroyed
Up to my neck in confusion, or is it lava?
