Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Echoes, artist - Homeboy Sandman. Album song White Sands, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 03.03.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Stones Throw
Song language: English
Echoes |
Her eyes were like nothing |
Her stumbling legs would barely keep beneath her |
Just waiting for the Reaper to release her |
Today she hadn’t tasted nothing to speak of |
Yesterday she had a slice of pizza |
Liquids had turned to solids on her t-shirt |
The type perhaps a scientist could research |
Been weeks and months since anyone could reach her |
Tics ago on the clock her whole esophagus was choking on a cock that didn’t |
tease her |
To cop the anesthesia |
A mother once beside herself with worry now would wander right beside her none |
the wiser |
She didn’t recognize her |
Her promise famished in a family where there weren’t no providers |
There weren’t no survivors |
Calamity too heinous to believe |
Her cavity was so contaminated with disease |
You couldn’t hope to clean it with entire summer weeks |
Much less a Summer’s Eve |
ALL YOU |
ALL OF YOU |
Could almost vomit from the stench |
The rotting of the flesh |
The last occasion that she had been anybody’s guest |
Was anybody’s guess |
Her mind was way to whittled to be riddled with regret |
It teetered on the edge |
No direction that required any steps |
No director to yell «quiet on the set» |
No price was on her head |
No one was racked with grief or feeling loss |
If there isn’t anyone that’s looking for you are you even lost? |
No friends had been as solid as the concrete she was on |
So was she even off? |
At times she’s in no mood to make no movements on her own accord |
Police would then accost |
You haven’t seen a more afflicted corpse |
Since Christ’s crucifixion on the cross |
ALL YOU |
ALL OF YOU |
I haven’t seen her in a stretch |
I wonder if she rests |
I wonder if the demons that had haunted her in her life, would haunt her in her |
death |
There was not a missing persons file on anybody’s desk |
The topic hadn’t made anybody’s docket |
The change she needed more than what could jingle in your pocket |
Or had she been a prophet? |
A saint who withstood pain that wouldn’t lessen |
Who’s life had been so I could learn a lesson |
That even those that get high and just say «F it» |
Can die and go to heaven |
And who was I for questioning her ethics? |
Should I be ashamed I never made the effort |
Or took the time for taking her to breakfast |
Or to the Fertile Crescent |
Woebegone that I never heard her message |
Before she’d gone returning to her essence |