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Tyrant

from WWII by Walking Wounded

/

lyrics

Like it woke up
But with breath heavy
Slouched over felt the weight of a wet machete
Drip drip this fixation's on a path
Walked it like blacked out thoughts split in half
At the will of a tyrant
Breaking points are reinforced by aching joints
Things hidden but they have a voice
Like its hung there
Take the day, put another in a sun chair
You think that you're getting out?
Faith over fear say your prayers
And that one will hear you clear?
Well which god's which?
Takes two just to run this disk
In the hands that close the fist
Payback's a bitch, like someone snitched
Gut your belly, no bandaids, no Nelly
Snot infectious yet, but this air seems smelly
Another home cooked meal, another heart attack
Got the doctor in on the stat, where the cardiacs?
Get the paddles quick
Body's on the hook for a fix
Something bout a flatline, things stay still
Yes everything can be forgiven, just kneel
So who wants this football as a souvenir, right here
Human in the mirror
Complex brains can misunderstand direction,
One thumb can steer
Fourth in bat, paddle tapped across this table
Hollow ping pong ball tell me what's not a fable

Frowned as I threw the key away
I hide my eyes from this
The door from which a light emits
(I never open up)
Forever just a memory
I lift my flask and seek
To drown. but I am only waste deep
(I never open up)

No one fell, boy no one hit the ground
Well someone spit tobacco on Patsy's wedding gown
It was all soiled as the organ quivered
Surely you can't ignore these shivers
It's pourin out of me like it was supposed to river
Yeah these narrow streams they just dont deliver
I'll dig a new ditch in less than twentyfour hours
But time stands still when you've emptied your powers
There's no black magic here, its preimposed fear
Implememneted controls all the power's at the rear
Push button to start, keep em all keyless
Got em, linked up trippin over the roots
Yeah they all get an apple, this time from the teacher
Cardboard cutouts of families on their phones in the bleachers
Your kid's benched starin at feet, studying features
Another 30 second viral, all star sneakers

Frowned as I threw the key away
I hide my eyes from this
The door from which a light emits
(I never open up)
Forever just a memory
I lift my flask and seek
To drown. but I am only waste deep
(I never open up)

Felt like he escaped
But was it only for a minute?
This stream of consciousness has grown since the beginning
Well look at his rose, hmm quite deminished
Did he fail every test that he was given?
Did the reverend come a knockin'?
Did some poor people pop in?
Was narcicism still and always his biggest problem?
Caught starin' into his own reflection
Answering all of these questions, no need to mention

credits

from WWII, released December 10, 2021

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