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• Artiste: Sole and The Skyrider Band
• Titre: The Bones of My Pets
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I will no go quietly into the backseat of a limo while you tell me to close my eyes and count to twenty I've counted to five-billion and the car isn't out of gas We've seen death by firetruck, weather by cattle, cattle by train Carrying artillery from behind the set of a truce all the way to the coast of Maine Where people are doing heroin, on a thing we call American freedom But I won't even go there, once you go there you can't take it back This is my new style, it's called "throw a boy from a harrier jet and see where he lands" See if he still looks cool when his failures are starting him lock stock and barrel You know you're a Commie when you're gasping for air Believe in karma when Bush gets thrown in an electric chair Then you can feel safe around others, when pennies don't look like mirrors It's death by candlelight the way you got, now till you're 50 and the young ones are sick of your stories There there were no glory days, only hope, and now that's gone You're chasing yourself in circles because a thing is only perfect the second before it breaks I'm trying to crack, like an unwritten almanac living in a future you'll make it to Because you heart beats so fast that you'll live twice as short The good ones die young, that's why I die every few years to be reborn If I live to long its cuz I lived according to my frames design and quit smoking Everything, young enough to hopefully not die of cancer Like my grandmother and the jazz greats I'm only great when it's a matter of life and death Only worth my weight in carbon When I'm swinging my sword under a staving tree that cannot shield me from the waste that awaits It's calling me, it knows I'm doomed cuz I'm alive And I don't wanna join the Bosons, the obscure tribes of Easter Island Victims of Tyson, van full of Pakistans, the giant sloth, and the alumni of Mai Lai This is my etching in marble, although it's digital it'll be all that remains other just the songs that no one needs This is my etching in marble, although it's digital it'll be all that remains other than the bones of my pets After whatever eleven, every paranoid kid with a web connection became an explosives expert I became an idiot expert, I know how they think Watching the fragile world cave in on the moon With Gallilleo's scope, almost out of saltines, dancing on the tip of cyanide syringe Almost out of clever thoughts and I learned, vocabulary shrinks if you don't talk enough It was tough to get here, but I'll be loosing a lung to get home With all the money in the world, you can't buy friends on the moon They even say there's no water, and no angles will find your body when you die Life is like thumbtacks in your heels, yet you feel too stoned to cry As if to say creativity is dead, let the Pentium chips do the thinking Let the KKK do the governing, let the New York Times frame the argument From the Christian Science Monitor, all the way to the computer monitors, to the security cameras When it comes to dollars, everyone is a cheerleader Eating grizzle induced steroids, make up for it by drinking diet sugar induced water You pray for world piece!? I pray from meteors to strike the media I keep praying for people to stop praying, and play a constructive role I love words... like Cortez loved the Mayans