Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song House of Ravens, artist - Yugen Blakrok. Album song Return of the Astro - Goth, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.10.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: iapetus
Song language: English
House of Ravens |
Who knows what hides behind these gray clouds |
Coercing men to bare frowns? |
But even fake crowns eventually bow low to the basslines |
That cover me like shelter for the homeless |
From vagrant to venomous microphone pest |
Pause only when my clones rest |
So foot in front of foot my frame progress |
Game of life and death, forced to maneuver past the grotesque |
Dried maggots, gravedigger 'til nails metallic tasting |
Iron bed springs, sleeping late, early waking |
Bomb street corners lay bodies at the coroners |
The bluebird of happiness tweeting to stiff followers |
Blak summons spirits thru a male goat’s horn |
Ate the cheese, be warned, I’m a spiteful woman, so don’t scorn |
In the darkness, the light seeks out the target |
And I’m starving for it, guerrilla styles like Darwin |
With a voice like a thunder storm, this ain’t no summer breeze |
This golden city’s dead like autumn leaves and Brandon Lee |
And still I breathe, exhaling smog from the chest |
But smoke makes my eyes bleed the colours of polluted sunsets |
Perched high on my mental complex |
Yugen of Crow’s Nest separating severed heads from bloody necks |
Knowing the light, I remain in the dark |
Insane sparks fire me up like a rocket discharged |
Making history of these carbon copycats |
Protect my origins, I’m all foundations & blueprints like architects |
Let me lay the plan flat like the dark ages' concept of earth |
Inverted thinking, tongue spitting rhymestyles in reverse |
Dodging evil and schisms my gunspeak stays eloquent |
This that grindhouse shit, there’s no damsel in distress |
I’m from a line of hard chickens that flex their necks |
Astounding with the intellect, compulsive never miss a step |
Eggheads trying to box me into cardboard cartons |
I’m heartless, rip mics in the name of carnage |
But this reality’s boring, I count the hours |
More sick than tired kids, more thick than I was |
One more hit for the downers |
And climb — ethereal anti-gravity |
Known to disappear like cities under the Atlantic |
Still I breathe, exhaling smog from the chest |
But smoke makes my eyes bleed the colours of polluted sunsets |
Perched high on my mental complex |
Yugen of Crow’s Nest separating severed heads from bloody necks |