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letra de hang me - skech185 & analog​(​ue) tape dispenser

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geers turn. man bites at the necklace ‘cuz stomach burn with they turn
alterpiece of caution tape altered these concerns to gossiping windows
numb. father gone. not a widow. hollow hall where found it and faulters around the time he lost his face
the revolution will not be televised the cameraman’ll be throwing rocks
the machines’ll be prompt with iris propped up at the h-llish sky
round table discussion: sling an alan moore v across (and) the words’ll have more percussion and safe politics won’t be f-cked with
jaws agape. wall crawling because i were the clothes of the enemy of the public
not sorry when my nack for fashion happens to fit your budget
the state of static when it comes to advancing is disgusting
the fact that my pants are sagging drives the elders into madness… and i love it
because it takes a village to raise troubled children
the hill’s have eyes but the mouths are so numb from the venom
they peel back the paint from buildings transparent revealing potholes in bad parents
with stencils from murdered moments when generation y was last caring

the elders i’m supposed to respect are trying to hang me
the country thats supposed to protect is trying to hang me
the cops got their hands around my neck trying to hang me
this life is trying to hang me
this mic is trying to hang me
the country i’m supposed to protect is trying to hang me
the elders i’m supposed to respect are trying to hang me
the cops got their hands around my neck trying to hang me
this life is trying to hang me
this life is trying to hang me

life’s an opaque blues monochrome mockery slotted between “possibly,” hushed parents and a zombie of kid
illuminated with drool playing the soundtrack of a muted baby who remembers belly rubs
the pain a mother can’t equate or explain but can spell in hugs
the cat who used to sell her drugs
the trains in the vein where north and south fell in love
a pity above faceless citizens race in hollow boxes
talkless ’til sky’s falling then wethey find heaven and h-ll in pubs
the permanence of the former? is a clogged chimney away from a santa clause stating that its standard
you get what you want when you get what you want. check your pockets
if by night your shack doesn’t bare a flag check your options
‘cuz the american dream is based in property so best of luck when the roll of the dice bares snake eyes at best
to disguise how icarus flight really failed: because society not grooming him properly
leaving him to float in an office sp-ce rat void of annoying conformity
with wife, kid and picket fence to fill the void of annoying normalcy
with dreams coughing in a coffin getting stomped in by boring sheep

there’s a snake in the water. it doesn’t need to breath the air but you need to drink the water so i think you should care
watch it slither across bricks whisper “block size caskets”
between promises
smiling, crying not knowing what to be
happy for the bullet to never hit a child playing or sad for the car the child plays in while apartement lays vacant
decades old neighborhood naked
tears tasting like salt on a door mat “welcome” chipped away
for that liquors poured proudly in a new gl-ss cloudy
demo dust sands the face different pounding the “bronze” out of douglas
trusting how “progress” is sounding
l-sting for the money hounding cl-ssifieds and half the time the snake seems right
from atop, the serpent’s a hydra. hydraulic powered coward. devours the voice. keeps the facade in plainsight
preserves the curbs and corners. curbs the words of mourner. slurs the purpose of warnings
so whats heard from the non conformist to sound like “hang me”

- skech185 analog​​ue tape dispenser

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