
Date of issue: 12.01.2017
Song language: English
Innocence |
You could be the president and pop that, pop that |
Enter the establihment and warn that, warn that |
Take that, give it up |
I was a young boy |
From the suburbs |
Playing with gun toys |
In an old church |
Question how I learned to see |
Angels in the skies |
Was it the calm voice |
From the outskirts |
Was it the clear voice |
Through the whispers |
Contemplative misery |
Angelic demise |
You could be the president, now pop that, pop that |
Enter the establihment to warn that, warn that |
Take that, give it up |
It was a young day |
In an old world |
Digital Pompeii |
Question how I learned to see |
Beyond the disguise |
You could be the president, now pop that, pop that |
Enter the establihment to warn that, warn that |
Take that, give it up |
Presidential, presidential |
Let’s make this day complete |
I rose to find the setting sun is stone beneath my feet |
And as I stepped beyond that stone and it stayed in its place |
I felt a new warmth taking shape from deep in hidden space |
I do not breathe the same |
My chest is a cathedral |
My ribcage frames stained glass |
The story on each panel says new suns are rising fast |
And my means have more precision and my needs are fueled by waste |
And I’m channeling an alchemy that smells just like it tastes |
And the depths that I am reaching are the heights that I’ve foreseen |
And the people give to nature what was taken from the sea |
And the children slowly gathered |
None of them had ever seen |
None of them haved dared imagine how their lives look from a dream |
There’s no other way around this |
It’s internal, buried deep |
Beneath labyrinthine thought tunnels where the questions pile in heaps |
Heaped upon that is a mystery, heaped upon that is a plan |
Heaped upon that, the simplicity of a river through the land |
And the cows around that river do not graze into the sea |
They are inland bred and treasured through their own complicity |
And the answers are apparent; |
difference is all the same |
I’m a whale of deepest regions where the ocean floor’s aflame |
And the source of this great fire is internal; |
buried deep |
The blood of stars configure in volcanic memory |
They push beyond the surface, they push upward and out |
From the depths of our great sorrows to the pucker of a mouth |
Kiss, kiss, kiss |
Another century |
Kiss, kiss, kiss |
Another year |
Kiss, kiss, kiss |
Another speech |
He’s kissed, kissed, kissed |
To disappear |
And we’ve kissed across a threshold to our present state of mind |
Where our feelings fry from memories that rest behind the eye |
And our dreams are deep polluted by such tragedies of wealth |
And the fish forget they’re swimming and their fins morph into tails |
And the truth like evolution is evolving as it fails |
To keep up with the demands of this modern space and sea |
And the skyline of this city are the whales we used to be |
And I feel these kids around me as I’m perched on sandy shore |
And they’re touching me and asking me if I’d like some water or if I’m already |
dead |
So I open up my eye and I’m staring through an arid wind at a white whale’s in |
the sky |
And I notice how they are floating and I wonder if they see |
Distant cousins in the world beneath where skies are very deep |
Name | Year |
---|---|
List of Demands (Reparations) | 2004 |
Three Fingers ft. Friends, Saul Williams | 2005 |
The Noise Came From Here | 2016 |
Mr Nichols ft. Saul Williams | 2006 |
Release ft. Saul Williams, Lyrics Born | 2002 |
Wings ft. Pharrell Williams, Saul Williams | 2017 |
Solstice ft. Saul Williams | 2017 |
Black History Month | 2008 |
Break | 2008 |
Wtf! | 2008 |
Horn Of The Clock-Bike | 2016 |
Time (Jungle) ft. İlhan Erşahin, Saul Williams | 2003 |
Think Like They Book Say | 2016 |
Experiment | 2019 |
Eaux sombres ft. Saul Williams | 2017 |
Tr (N) Igger | 2008 |
DNA | 2008 |
Underground | 2019 |
Before the War | 2019 |
Sunday Bloody Sunday | 2008 |