VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
Typical for a chase scene, nobody wait, move outta my way, place blame upon the same who never wanted me to be confrontational. Bait'll be the face of a planet granted we fall for the rodeo okeedoke. (Only folk to be choked by the tightrope... not me!) I'm wanted for believing in KING. My wife could be arrested for a similar thing but she gave birth to peace before she married me for better so, now the town is chasing her about with scarlet letters. Odd-balling it with fit genes, whipped for ice cream; forfeit the portrait of roots for icing. Tightening a screw loose... suits of blue noose ties play dead until the noose in youth rise. My eyes wept for a leader then and still do. Running for the position of KING will kill you so I press on interfacing with less on the point of making points with a point to press on. The mood of stress gone, test of threat gone... my neighborhood submits to unpredictable headlines. "Don't believe the hype!" I know you wanna be all normal and formal. The world is flat... I just tried to warn you man. Take heed to the sea of zombies that chase seekers of nonbelievers of a world they say is peace but in fact is off track... (a train wreck set to a tune that wears black.) And still I run from a mob of chalk walk soon to be a victim to a dream that won't talk.
VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
I'm being hunted
By blind who judge impossibles to see
Cavalry's coming
To fell synesthetics to its knees
I birth blues in a crimson tide
Neath buildings that scrape the sky
Gather palette to restore the warmth
From downpour of insipid eyes
Whet appetite, whisper them vivid wishes every night
So in that waking dawn of day
The motive's hint remains
There's no need to escape
Typical for a chase scene, nobody wait, move outta my way, place blame upon the same who never wanted me to be confrontational. Bait'll be the face of a planet granted we fall for the rodeo okeedoke. (Only folk to be choked by the tightrope... not me!) I'm wanted for believing in KING. My wife could be arrested for a similar thing but she gave birth to peace before she married me for better so, now the town is chasing her about with scarlet letters. Odd-balling it with fit genes, whipped for ice cream; forfeit the portrait of roots for icing. Tightening a screw loose... suits of blue noose ties play dead until the noose in youth rise. My eyes wept for a leader then and still do. Running for the position of KING will kill you so I press on interfacing with less on the point of making points with a point to press on. The mood of stress gone, test of threat gone... my neighborhood submits to unpredictable headlines. "Don't believe the hype!" I know you wanna be all normal and formal. The world is flat... I just tried to warn you man. Take heed to the sea of zombies that chase seekers of nonbelievers of a world they say is peace but in fact is off track... (a train wreck set to a tune that wears black.) And still I run from a mob of chalk walk soon to be a victim to a dream that won't talk.
VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
I'm being hunted
By blind who judge impossibles to see
Cavalry's coming
To fell synesthetics to its knees
I birth blues in a crimson tide
Neath buildings that scrape the sky
Gather palette to restore the warmth
From downpour of insipid eyes
Whet appetite, whisper them vivid wishes every night
So in that waking dawn of day
The motive's hint remains
There's no need to escape