Paroles One Egg Short of the Omelette de Sole and The Skyrider Band

Textes et Paroles de One Egg Short of the Omelette

Wanna feel whole, but I feel more like a black hole, or a callous on a tombstone
With an age old grudge against authorities; they false
And gravity still ain't killing me, soul is on ice in the nightship
Heart of a toxic drum, mouth of a vice grip
Ego of a white kid, with a little guilt for being born
Also, fuck y'all I ain't going anywhere
When I finally get paid off I'll quit throwing stones, then we'll start throwing skin
When it gets boring, tie myself to the tracks for fun
I'm a gangsta plantin' apple seeds under your house and then I'm gone
Ready to sell when I come back in twenty more years or so to buy up the block
While so many sleep, I hibernate
Watch you play yourself
So hip all they is is a buzz
Step away from foam, and we all know what the ocean says about permanence


I know I'm a human
I can turn forest to stone, stone to city, city to sand and sand to glass


People say I'm negative for speaking my truths
I may be negative but I've never been fooled
Except by clowns and my own blind faith
You don't get what you deserve, you get what you take
The sky is my garden, I till the air
I don't wanna be a martyr, I wanna be a millionaire
But these words, they mean to much to me to just make Romans cheer
You can make your bed, or you can burn it to a crisp
You can be a specialist dancing in a tourniquet
No brain, no pain, no gain, no fame, no pen, no home, in a hundred years
Nuclear war we ain't worried about
We got food for days, chessboards and books
Let the cockroaches sort it out
For some reason people despise, but be relieved when I finally get the worms in my eyes
Crows ain't pluckin' though my evergreens, no tanks fitting into my living room
No universe in a salt shaker gonna explode
The unpopular truth, every body gotta eat
Where they gonna sleep, when the oil can't heat your home?
Better move to Canada quick, unless you like drought and drowning
Or didn't mind much being surrounded by idiots in college
This is the future in a wet paper bag
I hope you like shopping, or watching them chop down the last tree in Compton
I ain't got shit to say to people who ain't got shit to say
Except, "Don't rap, don't sing, don't match your shoes with your trucker hats."
I've seen a million things come to pass, I'm a human...
I turn forest to stone, stone to city, city to sand and sand to glass

C'était les paroles de One Egg Short of the Omelette
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