| There’s a disconnect a mountain in the middle
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| Climb up half way live with the blade inside
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| All the time I try and I choke I flat line
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| Speak again these crossed out messages
|
| Look into my eyes see that I have no language
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| Anguish lie so I could see again
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| Visit those left around for me to bet a friend
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| Fore arms covered in hospital bands
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| Looking in the a killing field
|
| They waiving in from the stands
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| Its more real than how I feel when I have no language
|
| Anguish I’ll tell you with my body then
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| I choke old smoke
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| Tryna strip an old angle gunna build a new language
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| Words I try to lend don’t make no difference
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| Two kinds of empty hands
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| Both reaching out for a new language
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| In need of new piping come and show me something
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| The people are the players; |
| the buildings are the stories
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| No language foundation the one we were given
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| The ones that were taken the blades inside the blades inside bet
|
| Speak again these crossed out messages
|
| Look into my eyes see that I have no language
|
| Anguish they head to toe in fascist
|
| Can’t fuck shit when its made outta plastic
|
| Fore Arms covered in hospital bands
|
| Looking in the a killing field
|
| They waiving in from the stands
|
| Its more real than how I feel when I have no language
|
| Anguish I’ll tell you with my body then
|
| I choke old smoke
|
| Tryna strip an old angle gunna build a new language
|
| Words I try to lend make no difference
|
| Two kinds of empty hands
|
| Both reaching out for a new language
|
| Kick in the pain or the framework
|
| I could spell it out laymen’s terms
|
| Wood to build or wood to burn
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| Brick layer can become a brick slayer
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| Layer by layer racist foundation
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| Kick it out watch the old legs shaking
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| New Language the old one had me choking
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| I’m done coping lit it up open
|
| New fire from the old world broken |