Lyrics Who Is the Culprit and Who Is the Victim? - Snakefinger

Who Is the Culprit and Who Is the Victim?

Night after night, day after day
Everything bland, everything grey
Everything vague, cloudy and dim
Everything hollow pulling me in
I cannot see darkness and light
Where is the black, where is the white?
I cannot live looking at grey
Draw me some lines, what can I say?
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
Which is the model, which is the pose
Which is the armchair, which is the rose
Which is the merchant which is the thief
Which is the nigga and which is the chief
Which is the mirror and which is the glass
Which is the gardener mowing the grass
Which are the deep plots, which are the tops
Which are the long weeds, which are the crops
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
I had dream not long ago
Murky and strange, nothing to know
I had a woman, she had a brain
It wasn’t in her, I can’t explain
She wasn’t pretty, she was abrupt
She was dowdy, pleasant and plump
She had a blemish, maybe a mole
She made potatoes out of a bowl
She had a plane, I was on board
Filled up with honey, it wasn’t warm
Flew in the vacuum into the void
I couldn’t chuckle or be annoyed
There were no drinks, there were no treats
Nobody cared, not even me!
Something is vacant, something is blind
Something was empty, it wasn’t mine
Where were the mighty, where were the sore?
Where were the genders, whatever they’re for?
Where was the tanker filled up with oil?
Where was my brother, covered with boils?
Where was the hot dogs, down in the street?
Where are the mosquitoes, covered with fleas?
Where was the concrete, soiled and burned?
Tattered in driveways, covered in worms
What could I do, what could I say?
Everything grey, day after day
Day after day
Day after day
Day after day
Gimme some torture, gimme me some heat
Gimme some excitement out on the street
Gimme a hot day, a hundred and ten!
Gimme some sugar, gimme your friend
Gimme some music, make it too loud
Gimme a good guy, make me feel proud
Gimme a fight, make it be rough
Gimme some money, more than enough
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?
Who’s the culprit, who’s the victim?