| It’s too low.
|
| Yeah, you know the style, D-Rapht on the mic,
|
| yeah, kicking it wild like what.
|
| Like, like, like what.
|
| Check, huh.
|
| I got a feeling now,
|
| like I suddenly been touched by healing power.
|
| Now I know who I wanna know.
|
| Know this fear and loathing
|
| is part of the show biz.
|
| Won’t miss the train, remain namless.
|
| Paint-stained hands and Air Max trainers.
|
| AM campaign to paint us, knowing what pain is.
|
| Ain’t down to entertain laymans. |
| (Nah!)
|
| I’m here with the caverlier man that we manifest
|
| the best and standing under our banner.
|
| Eric Banner, Goanna, Australian blooded.
|
| From the motherland of the fucking Layland Brothers.
|
| My sins are washing away this year,
|
| but like Jason, addicted to the taste of fear.
|
| My translation’s like watching a Mason handshake,
|
| you only get it if you down with the fanbase.
|
| A sad day in the scene we’re in.
|
| My plan A was just to be down with the team I’m in,
|
| but made mates, made many mistakes.
|
| Made to play for pennies on slavery rates,
|
| but that’s life.
|
| All the nights I didn’t sleep because of this.
|
| Felt ripped off by friends, stole the love of this
|
| away from me,
|
| but I had to let it go,
|
| cos I now understand and I know that it’s gonna be
|
| a good year.
|
| You gotta hear me now,
|
| hear me loud and clear tear the ceiling down.
|
| A good year.
|
| Yeah, where we’re at,
|
| all eyes on the grimm and we staring back up.
|
| A good year.
|
| You gotta hear me now,
|
| hear me loud and clear tear the ceiling down.
|
| A good year.
|
| Yeah, where we’re at,
|
| all eyes on the grimm and we staring back up.
|
| Hey Trials, you know bro?
|
| Yep, now my eyes wide open,
|
| openly deep as the Indian Ocean,
|
| openly free as an Indian smoking a potent opium potion.
|
| The motion has changed this life.
|
| I wrote this with a knife,
|
| engraved a paper and prayed to the sky.
|
| I was angry at the world, at a girl, no language
|
| could understand how I felt,
|
| it was anguish timed by a thousand.
|
| Wanted to vanquish the problem,
|
| but couldn’t fnd the power in me.
|
| Wasn’t enough hours in the day to follow indies.
|
| Crusade and raid the Lost Ark.
|
| Growing up, swinging like Costa.
|
| My Mum thought she created a monster.
|
| Contain Paul was like a monsoon rainfall.
|
| Live a colourful life like I sprayed by paintball.
|
| A chainsaw tongue cut you down,
|
| lose my temper soon as I felt fucked around
|
| and that was daily,
|
| but I had to let it go,
|
| cos I now understand and I know that it’s gonna be
|
| a good year.
|
| You gotta hear me now,
|
| hear me loud and clear tear the ceiling down.
|
| A good year.
|
| Yeah, where we’re at,
|
| all eyes on the grimm and we staring back up.
|
| A good year.
|
| You gotta hear me now,
|
| hear me loud and clear tear the ceiling down.
|
| A good year.
|
| Yeah, where we’re at,
|
| all eyes on the grimm and we staring back up. |