Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Smoke in the Temple, artist - Kill the Vultures. Date of issue: 22.10.2015
Song language: English
Smoke in the Temple |
| A little blood in the liquor makes the night go quicker |
| It ain’t lights out ‘cause a lightbulb flicker |
| White folks whisper/ black snake moan |
| Whole town fits in a halfway home |
| Cause unknown but the outcome clear |
| Gotta catch my breath when I outrun fear |
| Now now here, give me both of your ears |
| Take an intermission listen to gears gr- grinding |
| Climb in the back/ hide in the stack |
| Don’t let nobody see ya/ once they find you that’s all |
| Folks wanna act like they don’t know how to act |
| Let ‘em in the front door I’m walking out the back |
| Try to follow my tracks/ they’ll lead you off the map |
| Now you trapped and you don’t know where its at |
| Tell me where it went- you part of an experiment |
| High as a seraphim/ eyes on the cross and your hands on the theremin |
| Who ever said worship was simple? |
| The smoke in the temple ain’t leaving out the window |
| Who ever said worship was simple? |
| Purify the sinful they’ll recognize our symbols |
| Who ever said worship was simple? |
| The smoke in the temple ain’t moving when the wind blows |
| Who ever said worship was simple? |
| Now baptize the info and feed it to your kinfolk |
| Spin ‘em ‘round and ‘round till the lights fade |
| Not yet, it ain’t dark yet |
| The price paid drips slowly off the knife’s blade |
| Not yet, it ain’t dark yet |
| They spin us round and round till the lights fade |
| Not yet, it ain’t dark yet |
| Its time to pull the blindfold/ stop thinking that your sight’s lame |
| Not yet, the light never left |
| Here’s a toast: give up the ghost |
| You hold it too close and I don’t say that to most |
| You’re blinded by the imagery, mimicry, trickery |
| The cracks in your mask shine vividly |
| Keep spinnin' me/ blur the lines of symmetry |
| Suffocate the suffering/ I’m a let the embers breathe |
| Suffocate suffering/ orchestrate the misery |
| But if I’m the conductor I’ll have to face the symphony |
| Take a bow for the crowd- own it |
| The pill tastes better on the way down, don’t it? |
| Sell it to the camera/ hold it, hold it |
| The picture last longer than the nightmare, won’t it? |
| False idols bridle the pulpit |
| While the saints go marching in with Bibles and bullets |
| If it’s tribal they rival with bull whips |
| Like we on some Man-Tan minstrel sideshow bullshit |
| You better dance for that dollar with a smile on |
| Whether in night gowns, fishnets or nylons |
| Every dollar’s born filthy |
| But we baptize the young in our river water, guilty. |