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Correct Trampled Bretheren Lyrics
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Artists: D
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dälek
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Correct Trampled Bretheren
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Lyrics:
With uncertainty I ink my final thoughts on unlit blocks Niggas caught on heron nods Still at odds with false gods of archaic age Angelic face wretched with pain ignites my flame Your mundane daily life amazes me, such complacency Tattered city once brimming with life now sits abandoned Some feel these thoughts too random I hand them their empty heads as main course to DaVinci's Last Supper As they sit and wonder Abundant sun pours over old steel and bricks Filling my aching eyes till they split I felt my earth shift, contort, and twist Lift heavy brow to view what happened to my tiny corner of dirt Worthless soul too old to care As despair builds thick amongst my people From burnt steeples hear distant toll of bells Ancient tongue swells as one lumbers with prenatal language Manage a coarse throaty mumble to convey how this earth crumbles I tumble, close to where I've been a million times before Free to ignore pain which pounds at human temples I resemble less of a man and more the dirt I tread on, the truth I fed on To my trampled brethren Heaven won't accept you Either you or it don't exist Consider that a gift As we walk through that mist filled valley Vulnerable souls tell tales of ill proportions Scorching rise soothing moon, soon to dim My travels at an end, light bends to dark Jagged crossed sticks manhandled as scripture and art Picture your Christ as blond and blue eyed As mine resides within confines of empty glass bottles Robbed of youth I wobble past society and rest my head on curb of reality If only for a nap To grasp for that which we lack Remain trapped in these three dimensions Mention I once stepped past, now viewed as insane Trained human pets scurry to cubicals for food pellets Next funeral for those who think cause thoughts are relics I smell this viscous odor on each face I meet Seems humanity reached peak in 20th century My jaded eye strains to see through a smoke-filled room Consumed by books which speak of our past At last begin to piece together our beginnings With few fleeting seconds 'til our end Quickly cross that bridge, you bum See what's on the other shore It's lure magnetic in our drunken minds Poor feeble shell hoping for so much more Left entranced by ancient dance of emptiness Few are the blessed who feed on truth's breast
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