lirik lagu sebastian winkler - sage rock jewels
[intro]
the holy trinity are the only ones that speaks to me
the depth, the text & valiant pomposity
the new white man’s burden
turn to church, then return when
he sees the sermon
determine
his urban living
is hurting
the urchins
we need to change
urgently
me?
i stand behind the curtain
containing my cursing
at the persons
averting the purpose of searching
it is not blind certainty
this is just a reminder to be kinder
on behalf of you so-called designer
i won’t stand on no corner warning people ‘bout the evils of bars
i spit lit bottles at the puddles in charge (molartov)
huddle up behind their spit proof bullsh-t guards
and their see-through gl-ss roof
that brings them closer to “god”
the philosophy is flawed
piousness grew by heads on the floor, and a best in awe
after practice there’s a breach
before preach wasn’t peace
at least there was a feast
if a beast wouldn’t use its feet, t–th or paws
gives me the creeps, this decease
k!lls billions
greed is what it’s called
this is about being an underdog
under a circle of corrupt corporate lords
the planet will cease and you won’t do your ch0r-s
ignore the privilege and abide your own laws
it’s in your book, should i spell it out for all of y’all
there is no l in god
that other sh-t is fraud
if dante is too daunting
read on the door
chose a life of the rite
plights might hide in spite
but i never turn a blind eye
to human inner war
i clench and cry at the
white-hot might and force
embossed in the jewelry cross
worn, by a jew at lost odds
hailing the meek and the poor
in the days of yore
now it’s christianity
vanity and possessive applause
open your plank wood doors
and invite your brethren
don’t mind the map lines
don’t meet them with weapons drawn
but friends, if you believed in your own words
you would love even the heathen
the bereaved and the grieving at an even score
your crocodile tears
for the fears of the third world
sounds less sincere with the revolution
on mute with a press on pause
their rights was forlorn, torn and p-wned
or left offsh0r- by a cruise ship abroad
with black men on board
nevermore
i got sealegs these days
i got these feet standing by the drowning
man that cannot grab for straws no more
destiny isn’t picked by a coin that’s tossed
it’s your choices and flaws
the weight you picked up or coursed
you left the wet woods torched
and now its deserts galore
neither a meal nor gauze
for their wounds and scars
foods are scarce
when the uncouth cut across
let the truth come across
i hope your alligator shoes turns footloose
and choose to chew you
and your twenty-two hundred-dollar suit too
eat you with all your silver spoon foods
put your utilities to good use
i cannot wait for your bible belt to turn tribal
belch as they aspire for your idle wealth
but first things first, we need to see about their ent-tlement and health
thought you meant to enlighten not frighten and smite them
give them ability for them to decide for themselves
i don’t care about the church and state
it works both ways
i’m speaking ‘fore a union
i can applaud
let us paint on the walls
and sing through the halls
of the church state and malls
we have our own zealots in a city-state
and a pope at the core of an onion so raw
tears will appear by the sword
to see it all, is a walk
that gives me an abundance of bunions
still a walk i adore
but the place reeks of the need for more
so i get on stage and uproar
f-ck your fascist literature
thrown in a lit pile and scorched
with f-ggots for warmth
the branches of course
love shall be scorn no more
whether franz or paul the beauty is gone
run the aesop, francis
the sage rocked mules, the saints rock jewels
there is ten commandments
how come you’re only using five fingers?
seeing there is pain why let it linger?
condemn any man with a condom on him?
i’m dazed and confused in my smoke and mirror-filled room
trying to throw my own quotes while stoned
i’m just an idiot savant
serpent servant biting on your corroding golden apple
ready for battle? it’s david vs. goliath
and i aspire
to spit-dribble rubble
from the ground
down on you
and i could babble on
about all that is wrong
but tower of power needs not a single danish crown
this dane is disdained, and this is his way, to explain
babylon was meant to come down
i feel like i’m sling shooting history back around
and i’m not even bringing the kinky sh-t into this
a second coming on its way i can -ssure
on a crusade for pink pigs with pink slips
and pearls in their clause
but for now, i think this is all!
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