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Bluelight Crew
Written during extreme distress...
ICAN'TSLEEP
Popping fistful of Somas
and chase them down
with a bottle of rum
Oh, brother don't worry
the earth keeps spinning
we're just bugs under the sun
Seven trumphets call my name
like a requiem
or a serenade
A call from my friend
sayin' Ghost
you're being re-arrenged
Your habits are your shackles
and man you act deranged
I'm carving stone with a feather boy
ain't nothing gonna change
God might be there,
but I know where I'll go
one the day that I die
Forget the pearly gates,
I'll be six feet under
laughing at the sky
I have dreams in red,
like terror through the nights
theres blood on my hands,
blood on my mind
Gang-gang out to get me
with their flickys and guns
So please
Carve into my coffin
on the day I get done
”Six bars, a bottle of rum,
fuck the human drama,
we're just bugs under the sun"
Born into a slaughterhouse,
a playground for our malovence
We crawl in the dust,
a living, breathing pestilence
The pinnacle of man
is deranged and broken sentiments,
malicious & eloquent,
gloriousssss
in its decadence
We turn kardinis
at each other
never taking a stand
Killing a brother
just feeds the hidden hand
Still we play predator
and still we act like prey
like our nature commands
Hedonistic in our ways,
Ruthless in our demands
Life is but a room
and its full of nooses
and man so many traps
Better watch your step
you might end up getting clapped
Or stuck with a mortgage
thikning about your epitaph
We're just anxiety
and unreliable instinct,
isn't that a fucking laugh?
ICAN'TSLEEP
Popping fistful of Somas
and chase them down
with a bottle of rum
Oh, brother don't worry
the earth keeps spinning
we're just bugs under the sun
Seven trumphets call my name
like a requiem
or a serenade
A call from my friend
sayin' Ghost
you're being re-arrenged
Your habits are your shackles
and man you act deranged
I'm carving stone with a feather boy
ain't nothing gonna change
God might be there,
but I know where I'll go
one the day that I die
Forget the pearly gates,
I'll be six feet under
laughing at the sky
I have dreams in red,
like terror through the nights
theres blood on my hands,
blood on my mind
Gang-gang out to get me
with their flickys and guns
So please
Carve into my coffin
on the day I get done
”Six bars, a bottle of rum,
fuck the human drama,
we're just bugs under the sun"
Born into a slaughterhouse,
a playground for our malovence
We crawl in the dust,
a living, breathing pestilence
The pinnacle of man
is deranged and broken sentiments,
malicious & eloquent,
gloriousssss
in its decadence
We turn kardinis
at each other
never taking a stand
Killing a brother
just feeds the hidden hand
Still we play predator
and still we act like prey
like our nature commands
Hedonistic in our ways,
Ruthless in our demands
Life is but a room
and its full of nooses
and man so many traps
Better watch your step
you might end up getting clapped
Or stuck with a mortgage
thikning about your epitaph
We're just anxiety
and unreliable instinct,
isn't that a fucking laugh?
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