1. |
Progess
03:32
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kids in the congo
mining precious metals
barely ten years old;
so you can have a cellphone
disregarding child labor laws
their family needs a paycheck
in the musky mines owners claws
so they work their asses off
when will it stop 2x
oh my god
isn't it awful
sad face emoji
keep scrolling down (down)
oh my god
a serpent offers
an apple to us
who do I trust
the ore is sent to china
to the outskirts of Beijing
where it all gets assembled
factory workers slaving
and the windows have nets now
incase the workers try to end their life
no one bats an eye
people dying namelessly
but we all need to get online
is this what progress looks like x9
asphyxiation in the gold mine x4
I can't sleep at night knowing the device
waking me up in the morning was made by slaves
is this what we've become
a serpent offers an apple to me
I choke that shit down
children carrying shovels
with dirt on their faces
copy and paste this heinousness
lifes a sacred thing
(steve jobs was a mother fucking asshole ayyyy)
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2. |
Rise
04:09
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i coughed up blood and my head spinned all around
nearly bit my tough straight from my mouth
encased in ectoplasm passing through walls
no longer of this world but i still beckon your call~~~~
where'd my body go
i am just a soul
im so faaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrr away
but a part of me stayed
in purgatory like a moth to the flame
i wish you owned a goddamn ouija board
i see you with the eyes of a portrait
and i glide right through you its torture
~chorus~
a porcelain corset
strains out my essence and im stranded in the stratosphere
peering at a cemetery
tapered to am ectoplasmic silver chord
stretching six(66) feet in the dirt
reanimated from this curse
theres a stone with a date engraved
here lies whats his name
still stuck inside my mortal pain
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3. |
Lipstick Stain
05:13
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I hope the world stops spinning
and gravity throws you right in front of me
Unearthed mountains
and buildings float around us
And as were soaring in the debris
You were all I could see
Feeling so centered soaring violently
The sky stops roaring
The apocalypse is not as daunting
With your hand in mine
we can take this on
Because Global catastrophic diagnostics couldn't stop me
If extinction dawned upon us
It'd be you who I would call first
An in the carnage of the end of days
sorry It has to end this way I'd tell you how much you mean to me
As the world we know would cease to be,
and I'd be okay and we'd be just fine
We can meet again in the next life
If the Sun starts to flicker out
Or the ice caps abruptly melt
The air becomes unbreathable I take that deep breathe
And id run fast to your new house with some white castle sliders in hand
we could just sit down
And enjoy one last meal
Tho outside there is literal hell
We can't help but smile
Mustering my last bit of strength
I would kiss you goodbye
One last time
So long until we meet again
Everything runs it's course
Every single thing disolves back to the source to which we all belong
We can speculate about the cause
This condition in this case between man and god
Everything runs it course everything has a beginning and end and the time that your blessed with before you go back from where you were sent
Is better off spent with good friends
All the people that you met
On this sphere will have an affect
On you and what they change will be all that is left when you gotta cash in your chips
The Mark on an ex lovers lipstick stained on my soul for good
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4. |
Christmas Tree Song
03:42
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strap me to the roof of your car
after my roots have been chopped off
this winter solstice praxis is disastrous
i'll be fastened up soon with a couple of screws being propped up in your living room
to be decorated with tinsel and lights plus these ornaments
my needles so damn dry
they present their presents at the severed remanence that once was connected to the entire planet
i feel so pathetic with this synthetic star balanced on my head
i see the trees outside
waving au revoir
as i slowly fall apart
just pretend it doesnt hurt
being thrown out swiftly on the first day of the year
once the big man comes down the chimney i know the end is near
sufficing for this sacrificial practice of cutting down conifers
i remember growing skywards ceasing for nothing
fearing only (forest) fire
i saw integral to my ecosystem but then i was cut down
there was never any missteps we were embedded in the ground
abiding to the cycles set intune with all that surrounds
then the noisy loggers came
the chainsaws ripping through our trunks
money $igns in their eyes
they sell us in the parking lots to everyone in town
oh noooooooooooo
theirs no chance
of salvation
treat me like a christmas tree in January
you treat me like a christmas tree in January
cutting down the conifers giving comfort to the kids long after they discover that Santa never did exist its good for the economy to buy them all this shit love it for a day or two and then it just becomes garbage
isn't it so sensational as the season comes and goes people show so much compassion then get mad about the snow buying all the stuff you want being told to be grateful for everything you got its the Christmas paradox
oh noooo
not me
im chopped down with the Christmas tree
2x cut us down
if you must
but carbon dioxide
doesn't sit to well in your lungs
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