| Face to the window, back to the wall
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| Ink to a dry page, yield to the sign
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| Mummy in the casket, Pharoah will evolve
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| Genie in the bottle, and I’m running out of time
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| Lines in the sand, hands of a mime
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| Thoughts that we make from the past we define
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| I don’t need a gunshot, I just need a trigger (uh)
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| Finger to my chest, fell in love that way
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| Stuck until I broke it off
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| Samsara, find another heart to cross and make it soft
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| Karma is the shot and the target too
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| Darkened room gets illuminated soon as the eyes open
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| The market’s doomed
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| Heavy eyelids fed sedative diets, bred for compliance
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| Dead to rights, quick to deny it, make it hard to prove
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| Solutions shine elusive in the future
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| Thick behind the dust cover, the suffering we’re used to
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| Why does one man have more beds than he can sleep in?
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| Where’s the line between competition and preying on peoples' weakness?
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| When did truth become a sequel?
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| What’s a starving mouth to say to the land that fed his family for generations
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| then degraded to chemical sand?
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| How could a conscious mind find relief when it’s come to believe that violence
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| is a marker along the path to peace?
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| Why is advertisment good? |
| Propaganda bad?
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| Insatiable desire, painting lines inside my lonely head
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| Learned behavior, trance fix, robotic captain sinking ship
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| Limbic system, bored with primal impulse, cut the wire
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| Trip an ego domino effect, letting go, distorted breath
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| Less amused with my regret, more intuned mindfulness
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| The time it takes to think my way out of this empty feeling
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| I will choose to fill my being with the beauty that consumes me
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| I ruined what confused me, became new
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| Started being me by doing, every day’s my funeral
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
|
| All I hear are gunshots
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| I don’t need a gunshot
|
| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| Truth is simple, no lies, metals bloom, men’ll die
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| Metal tubes will fly into the sky and who knows what they’ll find
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| Satisfaction killed the cat, bottle time, this is that
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| I don’t need a gunshot, I just need a goal to chase
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| And I won’t say that I know the way, or how to mold the clay
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| Or control the rain, I just rode the train when I was told to stay
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| So I fold and pray until I’m old and grey
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| So how much of my emotional state do I contribute to the things that I do?
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| Providing a sense of security, death to the purity
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| Guiding my higher brain through the mazes
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| Every habit I blindly created when I was awake
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| Is a testament I use as evidence to support changes
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| That I make in my life to see order in chaos and accept the pain waves
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I keep hearing gunshots
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| I keep hearing gunshots
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| I don’t need a gunshot
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| All I hear are gunshots
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| All I hear are gunshots |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Target Practice , by - No Bird Sing. Song from the album Definition Sickness, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп