28 Grams
(专辑: The Tragedian's Decoupage - 2011)
Where's my soul? I
wanna behold it. For I
never sold it Is it in between my eyes where my skull is? Or is It somewhere dormant, forged somewhere beyond the
senses For if we never learned to see it, then our mind will never sense it But still, I
ponder its inner workings, head off to church and Ask God where my soul is lurking, and if responsive He'd probably say the
body's just a
cockpit And we're all going down like drunks when they're nauseous But do fixes of substances help us find ourselves? Act as maps of our conscious-es? Or, to the
honest, is this just an excuse To get high above the
lows that we're used to, instead of choosing death And I'm not afraid of that, cause it's all natural Like birth, but I
wonder what was before this debacle Before the
womb, where did Kai loom, and whom Decided who or what body I'd bring to the
tomb Assume we were aloof before life Just souls chilling, then wanted to get high feeling So we took some shit, 28 grams of it, then started tripping And this is what the
damn trip is, a
drug induced Illusion of movement and we'll wake up soon when Death strikes like it's bowling down the
alley and the
pins are losing So who's in charge of your mirage, what facade Do you decide to adopt upon you leaving your garage Cause all of us where masks and costumes To try to be apart of Some clique or creed that we believe we belong to But so long to it all and it's long overdue I
threw my mask away like I
do when October's through Is your soul so gross that it repulse you? Donned a
mask so the
damn world can't assault you? Some say it's 21 grams, but I'll say it's 28 Cause souls are bought and sold like coke of the
same weight I
saw the
best minds of my generation Destroyed by madness Starving, hysterical, naked Angel headed hipsters Burning for the
ancient heavenly connection To the
starry dynamo in the
machinery of night Who were expelled from the
academies for crazy And publishing obscene odes on the
windows of the
skull Who coward in unshaven rooms in underwear Burning their money in wastebaskets And listening to the
terror through the
wall As I
sit and ponder living death Smoking cigarettes, I
wonder if My shit's hot like a
summer trip, but I'm done with it Expectations can suck dick, that's some punk shit If I
cared than my art couldn't function People care too much, giving two fucks About thumb suckers' opinions, when they matter none We are who we are, victims of fates hands You're tripping 'bout race when all our souls are 28 grams Love can never do what hate can, so hey cool kid Hate society and not the
man that it made foolish That it made ghoulish, we're products of a
system But I
taught you to resist 'em, so reject your papa's wisdom Cause this a
new age, like your birthday at midnight Where knives are at fist fights and truth's insight Lacks from most windpipes, but we sit tight while Women get exploited for the
point of selling shit for coins and dollars And all this, honest, is darkness that's upon us Rights gone cause we fear some terrorists might bomb us? Well, that's fear mongering, used by the
news To make us feel scared of something when we're 10 years removed Cause if it's coming from the
people we love Then all the
sudden their motherfucking opinion is ours Like actors plaster their views when broadcasting Then, followed by the
masses, their vote is what we're all casting But the
fact is, most are selfish asses Passive, won't give a
coin to the
dude crashing where the
trash is But for fashion? They'll spend a
grand on some damn shoes Saying the
homeless will waste it, well shit, look at you And shit's true, so who will look past their pupils and cataracts And change shit like a
laxative after this Become the
proactive activist with the
innate chance That you could die fighting for your 28 grams