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lirik lagu kill the vultures - smoke in the temple

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[verse 1]
a little blood in the liquor makes the night go quicker
it ain’t lights out ‘cause a light bulb flickers
white folks whisper
black snake moan
whole town fits in a halfway home
cause unknown but the outcome clear
gotta catch my breath when i outrun fear
now now here
gimme both of your ears
take an intermission listen to gears grinding
climb in the back
hide in the stack
don’t let n-body see you
once they find you that’s all
folks wanna act like they don’t know how to act
let ‘em in the front door i’m walking out the back
try to follow my tracks
they’ll lead you off the map
now you trapped and you don’t know where its at
tell me where it went
you’re part of an experiment
high as a seraphim
eyes on the cross and your hands on the theremin

[chorus]
who ever said worship was simple
the smoke in the temple ain’t leaving out the window
who ever said worship was simple
purify the sinful they’ll recognize our symbols

who ever said worship was simple
the smoke in the temple ain’t moving when the wind blows
who ever said worship was simple
now baptize the info and feed it to your kinfolk

[bridge]
spin ‘em ‘round and ‘round till the lights fade
not yet, it ain’t dark yet
the price paid drips slowly off the knife’s blade
not yet, it ain’t dark yet
they spin us round and round until the lights fade
not yet, it ain’t dark yet
it’s time to pull the blindfold
stop thinking that your sight’s lame
not yet, the light never left

[verse 2]
here’s a toast: give up the ghost
you hold it too close and i don’t say that to most
blinded by the imagery, mimicry, trickery
the cracks in your mask shine vividly
keep spinning me
blur the lines of symmetry
suffocate the suffering
i’m a let the embers breathe
suffocate suffering
orchestrate the misery
but if i’m the conductor i’ll have to face the symphony
take a bow for the crowd
own it
the pill tastes better on the way down
don’t it?
sell it to the camera
hold it, hold it
the picture lasts longer than the nightmare
won’t it?
false idols bridle the pulpit
while the saints go marching in with bibles and bullets
if it’s tribal they rival with bullwhips
like we on some mantan minstrel sideshow bullsh-t
you better dance for that dollar with a smile on
whether in night gowns, fishnets or nylons
every dollar’s born filthy
but we baptize the young in our river water, guilty

[chorus]
who ever said worship was simple
the smoke in the temple ain’t leaving out the window
who ever said worship was simple
purify the sinful they’ll recognize our symbols

who ever said worship was simple
the smoke in the temple ain’t moving when the wind blows
who ever said worship was simple
now baptize the info and feed it to your kinfolk


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