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letra de idle hands - deeps repus

as a parting gift i gave you new tattoos
that read “not safe for internal use”
there’s a growing rift between the true believers
and the overworked and the underachievers
no such thing as a curse that can’t be dispersed
with a good old-fashioned chipper machine
i keep people’s secrets written safe across my forehead
in bright red ink just so i don’t forget
this one’s for the churches that litter the land
that baptise with benzene and evangelize with sand
there’s a blanket of shadow that covers the country
that can’t be dispelled except by a queen
i’m of the school of thought that love can part the ocean
given 15 minutes tops and some condoms and lotion
but this cl-ss of elites worshipped by a plurality
claims that words aren’t what they mean
there’s some bile in my throat that’s starting to burn
it’s for christening the pretentious and anointing the stern
anybody who denies all the carnage around us
doesn’t know what i’ve heard, what i’ve seen

it’s a long way up to the gates of heaven
but they’ve been shot up, film at 11
you can’t have s-x with the body electric
but everyone nearby’s already gone septic
“there are some things that deserve a bit of arson”
scream the words on loop inside of my head
it takes someone special with the same amount of luck
to become a world leader or be k!lled by a truck
you might think this feeling means your heart’s been stolen
but it’s just something rotten inside your colon
i’m looking for catharsis in this toxic coal mine
but i always find sorrow instead
lack of critical thinking doesn’t always mean dumb
it could also be b-n-lity has rendered you numb
i now pr-nounce the couple husband and wife
and preemptively clinically dead
a bunch of disconnected, unrelated imagery
is the only thing you’ll ever end up getting from me
the color-blind are right in the grand scheme of things
there’s no difference between green and red

autonomy’s a concept that i’ve never experienced
a word i’ve only heard in myths and legends and rumors
i hatched out of a clutch that was laid by a spider
my motor sk!lls are held back by societal tumors
our destiny is set to be all p-wns for the plutocracy
our only weight as people is our role as consumers
unless we learn to loosen our chains
i wish i could ignore it but i’m forced to acknowledge
that we’re bogged down in this quicksand by imbalance of power
and that if we want affection from the marionetteers
we have to dance for our dinner over 63 hours
and we can’t refuse the offer because beggars can’t be choosers
even though the taste of leather boots is bitter and sour
we can’t endure our hunger pains
so i’ll staple a comedy mask to my face
until my personality’s been erased
and in bed i’ll cry for hours cause i know i’m a disgrace
but hey, it’s a living
is this really living?
in dreams i see a future where there’s something called “freedom”
and the people aren’t subject to the whims of the moguls
whips and jails and scoliosis don’t exist but in memories
there’s no such things as barons or oppression or n0bles
the sun is shining brightly on a land of all the liberated
bodies clean of all the gunk that kept us immobile
and none of the evil remains

i don’t think that i’d call it regression
it’s more a spot of chronic depression
nothing’s wrong with your eyes, but you still can’t see
it’s nothing that should go without mention
a parasite that eats comprehension
victims aren’t offenders, q.e.d

jesus wanted me to die
otherwise he’d never let me live in the first place
jesus wanted me to die
that’s the only reason i was born
jesus wanted me to die
why else would i even be alive in the first place
jesus wanted me to die
cause i deserve his ire and his scorn

- deeps repus

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