lirik lagu allone (usa) – inanimate
no object’s defined by evil
but when we objectify people
or our object’s to define unequal
a deed to deem them as inadequate
decidedly dehumanize do defile
vilely file, view their lives as inanimate
then s-d-stically animating
an object we’re handling
fatally damages the fragile living
shattering the animate status attached to them
and in an instant of duress
a simple sick decision to direct
an innocuous object viscerally
switch horrifically to that which that isn’t its intent..
from innocent to a vicious instrument of death
plays its requiem role a symphonic dirge
orchestrates gory traits awfully served
cacophonous curt disconcerting concert solemnly heard
hurt, herded and reaped, to a coffin in the dirt where you sleep
neutral items newly enlivened
by given brutal purpose perceived disturbing the peace
taking life, curbing the breathing
it certainly seems there’s no silence
the violent cycle churning repeats…
grunts and moans when a person’s conceived
turning to screams when the birth is achieved
unless death occurs in your sleep
last words that you speak, worse they’re shrieks
the reaper whispers terms courteously
courting us working in secret
permanently leaving entrails and urns for his leavings
end trail cremation pavement murky with weeping
the cost to cross styx river isn’t cheap
in this world that you see
every carpet with a burgundy streak
every stray sneaker observed in the street
could be the murderous scene of a terminal deed
a landmark of a victim never to be heard or be seen
what’s that stain on the carpet?
why is that pole bent there?
whats with that shoe in the sump?
how did that hole get there?
[verse 2]
when you’re on the subway
what if you are sitting on a blood stain?
whats to say that crack in the gl-ss
or a shoe at the bus station
isn’t connected to a “someone”
ending on a “some day.”
why is there a pair of muddy pumps in the sump eh?
why the torn cloth on the sharp fence the rust ate
the macabre and the maudlin are all in the mundane
all your petty values here are chump change
death’s an equalizer, sleep designer, untamed
closed case, unchained, uncaged
there’s a twist in the life of every lifeless feature
like the twist of a knife in the spine of a leader
when life’s dealer doles a wild card
fate’s hand matches wits, m-s-ch-st
raise the stakes with a tarot picture
crazy 86 ya, playing devil’s advocate
gambling with life there’s a chance to win
those same odds put your -ss to risk
so life’s randomness hands a gale force wind
to your fragile house of kevorkian jack’s and kings
transformed into ashes quick, you’re canceled
lost to that old wind like amelia earhart
a game of pick up 52 prayer cards
when “hit me” is said by a nail that’s set in a casket’s lid
a narrative connected, embedded to anything
a potential death bed in the bedlam of everything
eyes x’d so quick, exodus, death’s abyss
existing cattle lives, cross paths
with cross hairs that catalyze your exiting
refrain:
no object’s defined by evil
but when we objectify people
or our object’s to define unequal
a deed to deem them as inadequate
decidedly dehumanize do defile
vilely file, view their lives as inanimate
then s-d-stically animating
an object we’re handling
fatally damages the fragile living
shattering the animate status attached to them…
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