sum fuckin song lyrics or sumfin
You are living now.
Red light covered the world
Even with my eyes open,
like everything was exploding
I could breath.
You have certain thoughts
Every morning when you wake
That remind you of younger lives
Imagine if there was nothing
Imagine, you don’t know how
To perceive the red light
The sounds
Imagine you are cold, barren
And your muscles move without you knowing how
“This is life” someone explains.
“You are living.”
Someone pulls you up off the ground,
Someone shows you the door
“what is this” you ask
All the world, they say.
You are doubtful, but you step out all the same
“What will I do out here?”
“Whatever you’d like. Make dreams.”
The door shuts.
This is where you make yourself.
Memoirs to my time spent in the city.
In my hand I held a flier
A parchment of glorious sing.
It tells me: This country
We are living!
See the work we paid
The paths we’ve laid.
Come! See your world!
Maybe it was my gaze that was confused.
Where are the golden roads
Where are the brazened statues
The salutes to freedom
Where these broken bottles lay.
There are a million places on every street
And none of them will hire me.
Oh god, this land of prosperity
Oh god, my only family.
Just that my ghost would appear,
To send me a home or an ending
And not their guilt or fear
A friend I met along my journey
His misshapen face, his mishandled life
His Pockets, of emptiness rife
And I spoke to him about the dry season
His wrinkled smile, unspoken reason
And I left the city with little else.
We are not mourning, the living see brighter days!
Sometimes I feel I understand
The dim white glow of the screen
Every night, and why it fascinates me.
Why I wake up every morning, mean,
Thirsty from some anger the night before
That I cannot remember.
My unconscious is frightened of something
Politicians in my head
Reoccurring, they speak
About the living dead
About the dwindling landfills
The rise of the white collared misled.
Their smiles seem to suggest
The size of their wallets.
But the television plays only praise.
And the newspaper, each morning
Carries the same phrase:
We are not mourning,
The living see brighter days!
Last night I felt a strange sensation
Memories lost or recreated
I can’t know for sure.
My eyes keep bleeding this red.
In sleep, it keeps me up
Like my eyelids perceive light
Outside of my eyes
Though I know it to be night.
Something is lying to me
God, please,
Tell me it is not myself.
Red Palms Mine Golden Lives
Some mangled form makes its way to Bethlehem this eve
In the stony silence, fear of crypts, our futures we weaved.
This is the black that the night persuades
Is necessary for our evil deeds.
Closed eyes, red lids
My sleep is filled with screams.
Tonight I dream.
Red worlds, like every night.
Endless fields for harvest
I see my red palms mine gold
My sleep is filled with screams.
Some horrid beast decays below the star
To guide politics to its knees
These are the oblivious actions I took
To fulfill my evil deeds.
My consciousness awakens
To a poor man’s pleas.
He who spoke about the dry season
Now screams as he bleeds
This corpse, victim of my knife
Shows me why I had been brought back to life.
I become aware
Something terrible exists within me.
This begins my flight.
Red light covered the world
Even with my eyes open,
like everything was exploding
I could breath.
You have certain thoughts
Every morning when you wake
That remind you of younger lives
Imagine if there was nothing
Imagine, you don’t know how
To perceive the red light
The sounds
Imagine you are cold, barren
And your muscles move without you knowing how
“This is life” someone explains.
“You are living.”
Someone pulls you up off the ground,
Someone shows you the door
“what is this” you ask
All the world, they say.
You are doubtful, but you step out all the same
“What will I do out here?”
“Whatever you’d like. Make dreams.”
The door shuts.
This is where you make yourself.
Memoirs to my time spent in the city.
In my hand I held a flier
A parchment of glorious sing.
It tells me: This country
We are living!
See the work we paid
The paths we’ve laid.
Come! See your world!
Maybe it was my gaze that was confused.
Where are the golden roads
Where are the brazened statues
The salutes to freedom
Where these broken bottles lay.
There are a million places on every street
And none of them will hire me.
Oh god, this land of prosperity
Oh god, my only family.
Just that my ghost would appear,
To send me a home or an ending
And not their guilt or fear
A friend I met along my journey
His misshapen face, his mishandled life
His Pockets, of emptiness rife
And I spoke to him about the dry season
His wrinkled smile, unspoken reason
And I left the city with little else.
We are not mourning, the living see brighter days!
Sometimes I feel I understand
The dim white glow of the screen
Every night, and why it fascinates me.
Why I wake up every morning, mean,
Thirsty from some anger the night before
That I cannot remember.
My unconscious is frightened of something
Politicians in my head
Reoccurring, they speak
About the living dead
About the dwindling landfills
The rise of the white collared misled.
Their smiles seem to suggest
The size of their wallets.
But the television plays only praise.
And the newspaper, each morning
Carries the same phrase:
We are not mourning,
The living see brighter days!
Last night I felt a strange sensation
Memories lost or recreated
I can’t know for sure.
My eyes keep bleeding this red.
In sleep, it keeps me up
Like my eyelids perceive light
Outside of my eyes
Though I know it to be night.
Something is lying to me
God, please,
Tell me it is not myself.
Red Palms Mine Golden Lives
Some mangled form makes its way to Bethlehem this eve
In the stony silence, fear of crypts, our futures we weaved.
This is the black that the night persuades
Is necessary for our evil deeds.
Closed eyes, red lids
My sleep is filled with screams.
Tonight I dream.
Red worlds, like every night.
Endless fields for harvest
I see my red palms mine gold
My sleep is filled with screams.
Some horrid beast decays below the star
To guide politics to its knees
These are the oblivious actions I took
To fulfill my evil deeds.
My consciousness awakens
To a poor man’s pleas.
He who spoke about the dry season
Now screams as he bleeds
This corpse, victim of my knife
Shows me why I had been brought back to life.
I become aware
Something terrible exists within me.
This begins my flight.