Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song La Rambla, artist - Josh Martinez. Album song Made In China, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.07.2007
Record label: Camobear
Song language: English
La Rambla |
See, in the aftermath of the lantern light |
There was the lighted laughter |
After he had ignited |
The night life came to a stand-still |
Till dawn |
Still-life captured in my quills |
Still quivering hands |
Holding my pen |
And holding man |
Did become one with the unfolding Zen |
And then and there I’m cold |
And don’t know how to sell my shares |
In marionettes made from gold |
Who wants to be a puppet? |
Raise your hand |
Drop your head |
And grab a bucket |
Cash the liquid tears and cop a couple of droplets |
Fuck it |
Where’s the water when I want a drink? |
Where’s the slaughter when I’m on the brink? |
I want to think about leaving heaven for the very first time |
Never felt the same way when decay disbursed this line |
And time is no longer an object of my desires |
I want to live in between the lines |
I want to give in and live in a shrine |
Promote the art of peace and feel increasingly genuine |
Our loving can taste the ocean |
It makes an awful good tapestry |
The soothing motion for my mind’s apathy |
Happily changing time zones and subject matter |
The latter meaning a decrease in chatter |
And more patterns |
And more live drums |
And more new friends |
More dependant on myself for more mental growth |
But it depends |
On more genital gropes |
How good I’m feeling |
More importantly is how I’m dealing |
With the people I’m meeting |
Hearts I’m stealing |
Kiss kiss my sweet biscuit |
I’m basking in the insecurity of your slit wrist |
Lying listless |
Not even on the guest list |
Not a member of the most pious |
Post fliers |
Kids my age still on stage |
Will never mean it all |
Full of rage |
Crafted in a cage called high school |
Foolishly accepted my foolish roll |
Roving along the hallways |
Strolling past the Key-master |
Whose locks I’m holding |
Halfway to Hell in a basement |
Taking shop |
Pacing myself or else |
Have to stop |
Slow down just a little bit |
It’s the middle of the night |
And might we get a little light |
Put your hands up for insight |
Ahhhh |
Throw your hands up for insight |
Uhhhh |
Throw your hands up for insight |
Lights out |
Handcuffed and stuffed in a closet |
Fight and shout |
And drag them all the way home screaming |
«Insight |
Insight |
I got to try to get it |
Insight |
In flight |
Overwhelm me |
I won’t let it.» |
Please everyone |
Seek to be smart at least once a week |
If you can spare the time |
It bears doing to your brewing mind |
Beaten black and blue and blind |
Boast of that in most situations |
You and I close hugging |
Telling secrets |
Want to keep it |
Mind over matter |
And those who don’t believe in peace |
Will have their |
Knees shattered |
Ask me |
«To where the trees scattered?» |
It’s not like it really mattered |
Cause feet splattered |
Muddy chunks on the walls of concrete jungle |
With asphalt floors |
And doors that stay locked |
And humble men living in fear |
Guns cocked |
Tears running |
Crops grow of sadness |
Seeded in the springtime |
Sowing a harvest full of madness |
Uh huh Uh huh |
When I yell «Insight» |
You say «Psychosis» |
Insight! |
Psychosis! |
Insight! |
Psychosis! |
When I yell «Kiss me» |
And you start to kiss me |
I’ll feel it then I’ll flow it |
It’s raining |
It’s pissing |
A glistening liquid |
That’s my brain and |
If you’re straining to wipe your face |
And |
Craning your neck to check your game |
And |
It’s not the same no more |
That’s for sure |
I’m shocked at the skills exhibited |
As a derivative |
Of uninhibited |
Uninhabited |
Avid |
Given at Scribble Jam |
I saw art walk |
It’s living culture |
Locked mind |
A one-way door |
And you’re trapped inside my vision |
Art could and should be without |
Inhibition |
To those who inspired my enlightened condition |
I was thinking of you just now |
I hope you listened |