Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Soul Purge, artist - Noisia. Album song Split the Atom, in the genre Драм-н-бэйс
Date of issue: 08.04.2012
Record label: Vision
Song language: English
Soul Purge |
What a night, sodom right type |
Spilt words and accents like blood from fright night |
End of the market day, fruit not ripe |
That’s getting thrown in the gutter, slippers whisper sickness |
Rappers get torn asunder with the quickness of lightning delayed |
Latency thunder, ripping up a town |
From beneath the grounds, under the deep |
We lounge under the sound but we’ll travel on rupture |
Unravel your structure |
Gene code breaking down so battle of master strength |
Need no weapons, spit shells, rappers get touched up |
Only the strong survive, get shaken, arise and thus start to be taken alive |
You’ll be taken alive route to demise |
While our weed smoke to new highs of blue skies |
The mind’s eye never lies |
Closed and lost like god’s severed divine ties |
Nervous, twisted, coarse enough and convoluted |
Slightly edgy, messy, caught in the net |
Left to our own devices, these thoughts we collect |
But after the soul purge, we emerge from the depths |
Nervous, twisted, coarse enough and convoluted |
Slightly edgy, messy, caught in the net |
Left to our own devices, these thoughts we collect |
But after the soul purge, we emerge from the depths |
Yo, I stay livid, brain withered and face grinning |
Chase women, race winning in this fake kingdom |
Race to place faith in this bait system |
Stray pilgrim, changing name 'til his fate gives in |
Days spinning, out of control, time’s speeding |
Mind feeling for hope, but my life’s bleeding |
I write, read, and recite bereave that despite freedom my life’s leaving |
Three times of the wind of this nice evening |
I fight feelings, dry feeling, my frail skin |
My plight’s flimsy like the tale of a fell king |
Set sail to the blue yonder and hope for no return |
Let’s be failing, she’s to wonder if our souls should burn |
I close the urn, toes turned to the wind |
False discern, these yokes are learning to sin |
Hurt within crushed feelings of a lust lost |
Last seeing us believing that we must rot |
Nervous, twisted, coarse enough and convoluted |
Slightly edgy, messy, caught in the net |
Left to our own devices, these thoughts we collect |
But after the soul purge, we emerge from the depths |