Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song A Murder Of Memories, artist - Eyedea & Abilities. Album song First Born, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.01.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhymesayers Entertainment
Song language: English
A Murder Of Memories |
That’s him in the corner of social oblivion |
Encompassed by the sweet sense of freedom |
That only borders the aura of deep cerebral gouges |
Buried in each beat of the heart he was once proud to home |
If only his substance held a higher level of potence |
He might be able to drown the portion of his mind |
Which is trapped in the infinite hoard |
Of his 1972 through '74 tour through the flames of this hell |
Sometimes gunfire is brighter than the sunshine |
And sometimes a child’s scream influences every dream |
Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking we’ve moved on But no way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
It’s now twenty-five years later, he’s on the brink of forty-three |
Still searching for sanity, surveying the floor of his distorted sea |
He rememebers high-school friends joking about the war |
Never knew what mom was crying for (Never knew what mom was crying for) |
The other piece that shines in his mind was a divine first love |
Sewn-made, beauty, brown-eyed queen he left behind |
He remembers holding her tight, watching the sunset at shore |
Never knew what she was crying for (Never knew what she was crying for) |
He got the letter in the mail by the middle of his summer |
Wouldn’t have had to go if it wasn’t for his newborn brother |
He was barely eighteen, murdering people even younger |
And he still ducks and covers every time he hears the thunder |
He still hears the screams, smells the flesh, tastes the death |
Sees the blood, feels the pain, what’s to gain, nothing’s left |
But the slug that remains in his right calf |
The bullet laughs every time he cries, and it drives him mad |
Trying to sleep, but the visions give him a cold sweat |
The war’s been over for two decades, but he still hasn’t been home yet |
And every day he waits and strains to supress his guilt |
And forget the horror and the violence; |
the «kill or be killed» |
Fists, they always clenched; |
teeth, they always grinding |
Real life is lost and in a bottle he tries to find it |
«It's not fair,"he mumbles through a nightmare |
Only in a fight for two years and wound up spending his whole life there |
He was face to face with the devil for the welfare of his country |
Now he’s straining to live but his conscience won’t let him |
It ain’t flashbacks, you have to understand the tragedy, see |
He left the war, but the war never left him, see |
He left the war, but the war never left him, see |
He left the war, but the war never left him, see |
He left the war, but the war never left him, see |
He left the war… |
It’s now twenty-five years later, he’s on the edge of a park bench |
He asked God for hope and found his source non-existant |
He sits in the shadows, because the sun burns no more |
Now he knows what mom was crying for (Now he knows what mom was crying for) |
I used to watch old man in the park |
The sights slowly drove fright through my heart |
Wishing I could help but not knowing where to start |
I’d walk away, curse the world, gush some love and curse some more |
Now you know who I’ve been crying for (Now you know who I’ve been crying |
for) |
He threw his medals in the river but they sunk alone |
Put shades on his eyes to hide it from the warzone in the sky |
He tried to slit his wrists about a month ago |
But he’s seen so much death, he’s scared to life of suicide |
If there was only some way he could escape this penitentiary |
Goals get bigger and figures it’ll chase away his memory |
But the dreams only worsen, the scenes almost burst in He recalls how training took away his right to be a person |
Put a gun in his hand, left him to die for the land |
The plan was the murder of man (The plan was the murder of man) |
Politicians have a dispute to decide to send in troops |
But the truth is they just don’t understand (They just don’t understand) |
Now he’s running out of time, and running out of energy |
But 'til the last day he will fight for the murder of his memories |
And although he never got rid of his dog-tags |
He still wishes they’d have sent his parents an American flag |
Sometimes gunfire is brighter than the sunshine |
And sometimes a child’s scream influences every dream |
Sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking we’ve moved on But no way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen |
No way, nohow, do we ever forget what we’ve seen Additional info |
From the 12""Pushing Buttons / Architects Theme / A Murder Of Memories" |