Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Case of William Smith, artist - Astronautalis. Album song Pomegranate, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 22.09.2008
Record label: Model Citizens Entertainment
Song language: English
The Case of William Smith |
William holds his palm out proud |
Upon the Bible, lays it down |
And solemnly swears against it |
That every word is true |
Searching through the faceless crowd |
In the hallowed auditorium |
He sees that everyone’s turned against him |
And his endless pursuit |
The saga that he spells out |
Has mothers grabbing children |
Grown men twisting mustaches |
As priests smooth out their suits |
But William hammers right along |
And ignores the banging gavel of |
The judge’s plea for order |
In the chaos of the room |
Outside my cell |
There is an oak that grows |
Through the fence line |
And towards the sun |
They built a barrier of barbs |
Flush but against its bark |
And still its burls unfurl |
Into branches strong |
The silver thorns that hem in my hole |
Snare me here through sun and snow |
While barbs may scar |
They cannot stop the mighty Oak |
Burgeoning upward and out |
This figure made out |
The persistence that’d been made |
Stopped by its daggered escape route |
Once it finally stands tall |
The limbs will make the fence fall |
The slowest getaway car |
That the guard ever saw |
The warden scratches his bald patches |
Raised his arms in the air |
And wondered how this happened |
Despite his decades to prepare |
In this I found the faith |
You’d see my sentence a mistake |
Discharge me from this place |
And reinstate me in your grace |
The truth will set you free one day |
My father promised me |
But I’d never thought |
The truth would come this way, quite honestly |
William holds his palm out proud |
Upon the Bible, lays it down |
And solemnly swear against it |
That every word is true |
Searching through the faceless crowd |
In the hallowed auditorium |
He sees that everyone is turned against him |
And his endless pursuit |
If you’d have told me back then |
That the words from my pen |
Would’ve branded me a paynim |
I’d have never changed a damn thing |
I’m sure it’s shocking to your ears |
That the treatise you revere |
Would suffer such assessment |
At the stylus of a confrere |
But I am more than well aware |
Of how you all were unprepared |
To stare into the sun |
As a means to pick apart its flares |
Covenant in question |
And career upon the line |
I suffer your reckless sanctions |
With a clarity of mind |
The charges that you lay |
Against my character and faith |
Will burden you with shame |
When you face the Prince in paradise |
And He knows as well as I |
That the heralds can carol flat songs |
The refrain rate’s familiar |
But the words just seem a tad wrong |
God is just a breath away |
He lives a kiss from your lips |
While the message can mutate as it |
Drifts from mount to chisel tips |
So this is it |
My suffering sings its swan song |
Suspicion sets me sovereign |
From restriction of your sad bonds |
You edit me from existence |
For continuity |
May the Lord be always in your footsteps |
To document your lunacy |
William holds his palm out proud |
Upon the Bible, lays it down |
And solemnly swears against it |
That every word is true |
Searching through the faceless crowd |
In the hallowed auditorium |
He sees that everyone is turned against him |
And his endless pursuit |
The saga that he spells out |
Has mothers grabbing children |
Grown men twisting mustaches |
As priests smooth out their suits |
But William hammers right along |
And ignores the banging gavel of |
The judges plea for order |
In the chaos of the room |