| I found god in my boom box, hiding in the high hats
|
| Trapped under filters and waiting for kickbacks
|
| Or justice, plus it’s, whatever comes first
|
| We want the worst, to hurt less, and the best to work us up
|
| Into frenzies, we’ll be keeping it sharp
|
| Trying to drive but the world has got me in park
|
| My adrenaline gets me going, rolling through midnights
|
| Into promises hands, where the failure has no rights
|
| Or the chance for occupation, I’m done with aggravation
|
| We don’t need your separation; |
| I’ll bring the words and music
|
| You bring the participation
|
| For every syllable that’s fitted to match, your sprit
|
| I’ll be filling you with groove, so catch the sequence
|
| Glue is true life, as honest as it gets
|
| Putting a bounce in your step and the love in your sex
|
| We’ve got a lot to say
|
| And even more to do
|
| We’ve got 3 mins left
|
| And then it’s up to you
|
| On the block where I live, it’s all respect and peace
|
| Trying to set examples by handing out strength to the weak
|
| The peak isn’t as far away as you might think
|
| But it’s takes more than contact highs and mixed drinks
|
| You blink and it’s gone, the stage and the lights
|
| I gamble my moments but always betting on my life
|
| While you sit and wait for the pawn to move itself
|
| I’ve been hustling, investing in fresh air for health
|
| Reasons like this, I’m seeing big waves to ride
|
| Rare records to find, with history to realign
|
| Tell a friend what you heard, that glue is on the way
|
| With a budget of zero and 50 shows to play
|
| It’s the same old story, but it needs to be told
|
| From orange county sun to the northeast cold
|
| You can get an the mindless nonsense somewhere else
|
| Cause here we try sneak experimental in on stealth
|
| We’ve got a lot to say
|
| And even more to do
|
| We’ve got 2 mins left
|
| And then it’s up to you
|
| I live to play favorites, in the smoky oxygen
|
| Doing my best to sing, like I’m Van Morrison
|
| Driving hard against the current with no sleep until Chicago
|
| Then crash on the couch of my TBA vatos
|
| We follow morals where religion is decision of self
|
| Where you’ve been working towards heaven but existing in hell
|
| I’m telling you, glue’s seen the best
|
| En route to something fresh we’re headed Midwest
|
| I never tempt fate, I respect her limits
|
| Keep my hands to myself then fantasize to the image
|
| Hold up love, it’s never too late to manage
|
| So focused on the punch, you can’t feel the damage
|
| It’s hard to keep the monotony out of the picture
|
| And quality was a looker and I admit that we miss her
|
| But each time we deliver better ways and bigger sounds
|
| She’s one step closer to coming right back around
|
| We’ve got a lot to say
|
| And even more to do
|
| We’ve got 1 mins left
|
| Then it’s up to you
|
| We’ve got a lot to say
|
| And even more to do
|
| We’ve got 10 seconds left
|
| And then it’s up to you
|
| We’ve got a lot to say
|
| And even more to do
|
| We’ve got no time left
|
| Now it’s up to you |