Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song And Leave Alone, artist - Youngblood Brass Band. Album song center : level : roar, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.04.2003
Record label: Layered
Song language: English
And Leave Alone |
You try to tell your feet to stay put |
But the sky keeps reining you in / stretching air thin |
So float / cloud-charged over the dead city |
Where steel people throw their hands up for what weather might bring |
And we are the twice-striking lightning |
Fighting for a return to flesh mode |
Without the culture-biting whitening |
Flying past the easy anomaly |
That traps most seekers with thoughts of colorblind teachers |
And infinitely attentive students: analogy |
It’s not that simple / it’s more simple and human |
Than numbers and tones |
People live in binary code |
And never get to three |
There’s no eye left to see |
I’m living post-free, post-me, sending unmarked gifts care of your ears, |
packaged-pre |
Catch us in a child’s cheek as smiles wrinkle time in hell |
And thrice we come crashing down in thunderous ovations of our own making |
— little kids covering their ears because the truth is a loud foreign noise bad |
men telling good boys about the dangers of kite-flying on a night such as this |
so they leave copper keys locked in hearts forbade exposure lest another male |
sense sensitivity on such an epic level — |
A feminine step / fairies skip between our heavens lost in unburdened bliss |
Not until you’re dead though and ready to scorch the earth you made your |
immoral bed on these past decades |
Blind the blind before they fall in skip |
Bleed for me and we’ll consider the application |
Hurt like her and we’ll acknowledge the fire |
Die like this, this, and this here |
Love learns to live burns and mistrust brief judgment from the sky |
It’s round as it seems / to drop a metaphor supreme |
And the whole world a simile for dream |
Meant to get foggy / shunning mental memory / too short-lived for what our |
bodies recall |
And what spirits are (still) called |
— it's waiting somewhere for all of us converting stuck feet to static charges |
in the stratosphere against the greater necropolitan area — a forward march — |
an all-out attack with war drums and battle lightnings storming globalized |
gates and stock-optioned automatons to win back young minds that have no idea |
of the power inside the space we’re spread amongst — |
Slice my tongue |
And let the rhymes drop down |
To stain the swords soft |
Crush my feet |
In this mindless stampede |
To stay stupid on the ground |
Tear out a floating heart |
And squeeze the juice |
Over party-purchased plastic flowers |
Because everyone needs to grow green |
And dry their eyes of shame |
And we are the twice-striking lightning |
Beating the drum |
That brings |
The rain |