Hey killreal! I'm sorry I haven't gotten to that mixtape yet. I will. I'll kill it for real. Here's a little taste... or something... to chase away those wraiths... hey!
I'm floating around this home feeling homeless,
Don't know if you know me or know this, I'm the youngest child not the oldest,
I was never the wildest or smartest, but I wasn't the weakest or slowest,
But I think that I am now the coldest, what's life but a pan on a moment?
Sitting by a little fire by a frozen lake! Looking at a big sun when I slowly wake!
Feel the warmth of its rays falling on my face! Then it moves... I forget how my freedom tastes!
I get stuck in these habits that keep me safe! But I chase something bigger, I make mistakes,
And regret them forever I guess that's my fate huh... as of late...
Does it really get better, where's my faith? I wish I really believed I could make a change
Or that there was a heaven, something great, waiting for us in space when I leave this place
But how can I believe in fairy tales? We all just get deceived on hearsay.
If we believe everything they tell us, but I am jealous, I wish I didn't think it's fake
And I wish I believed in the government! And I wish I believed in the punishment!
of injustice and evil and criminals! But I see them in the green digging minerals!
And I see them on the streets and in Synagogues! And in the Mosques and the Churches and in our Gods!
In our purses and Parliaments and it is odd! People look up to 'em like it isn't off.
How can we still believe in utopia! When we still keep bleeding from our open cuts?
When our media deceives and won't open up! When the banks just thieve and won't hold us up!
When mankind's greed is what slowly kills! Everything in this world that we haven't built!
That we cherish and admire as a miracle! And they say that God is in us all?
I don't want to say God is a criminal... but if there is a God then it's time he came,
To our lands with a flood to sweep us away, this lie that we live is too much to take,
Some days I just want to succumb to games, to the mainstream rush, to the hall of fame,
To the career stairs they want us to take, to the roof where there is nothing but
Tired old dudes waiting to fly away... in a sky grayed out... by pesticides and pollution.
We could make this heaven if we didn't stray.
Our future, it could be great...