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letra de captain - sol hardy

the typical phraseology of those unknown to their manic side
psychology or how to read a frantic cosmology who can’t understand it
a damaged hand dealt ellipses and ampersands as clues as to what to do
when tomorrow is a monster made of dollars and daunting dishonesties
i think somebody’s on to me
i’m tired of acting alone a dark hearted martyr wired on his own
uncharted startup on his way to tartarus with a cadaver and an abacus
whistling abracadabra just to count the odds of never coming out of it
you know i’m proud of it
i’m looking for a hard part of him gone soft for an art lost
in the way that it’s made taste the bullet, the blade
post modern harakiri
a venom as sweet as nihilism is easy believe me or not i’ve believed in no meaning vomited reasons like-a-bulimic genie missing his speaker
woah
speak easy when pressing the envelope lest the letter turn to another suicide note
in the symphony of dystrophy to which very few are really listening
are you listening?
now

it ain’t hard to start where the pleasure stops
what is is knowing that the love does not
what is is knowing that the love does

i know not except that i know not
says the neo not-so socratic philosophy jock
watch em flock to contemplate the clock
watch em stop when the tick hits the tock
there’s a time to act and there’s a time to not
watch em dangle from their question marks like hallowed gallows
watch the watch watch, laugh, howl, weep, then waltz
flick a cigarette at the sleeper’s walk on its way up the block
chop chop, motherf-ckers chop
if their eyes don’t pop then there’s something to get
that they ain’t quite got i can’t write what
but i know there’s bombs bigger than tomorrow that could swallow up all of us
and stopping em is like arm wrestling an octopus
and it’s like we all know that we’ve forgotten it
so come on over to my house and we can play apocalypse
ask god about the stars and dinosaurs and sh-t and then proceed to stop listening
and start forgetting it
let’s make believe the end of it let’s split the atom on the eve of armageddon
cause i’m betting that death is where the next breath is hidden
ready to reason with the dinner guests at a burning eden

it ain’t hard to start where the pleasure stops
what is is knowing that the love does not
what is is knowing that the love does

alright, just curb stomped some truth
now let’s pick gold out the bits of shattered tooth
ready shoot
thinking is easy when it lacks the meaning of bringing being into being
yes, okay?
now i’m guilty of being terrified of meaning anything
overthinking to justify sleeping through the thick of things
haven’t pulled the trigger cause i’m hiding from the ricochet
now i’m sick of it
soaked in that menial formaldehyde
like a pickling lord of the fickle flies
mistook too many whys for being wise
them fishhooks in the corners of this fisherman’s eyes
ready, set, why everybody blind everybody, why?
maybe if the light weren’t so bright i wouldn’t need to be so polarized
when the days die and nights rise from the ashes in military fashion
black as the pit from pole to pole
when the insomniacs emerge mumbling in latin
for my unconquerable soul
oh captain, my captain
what happened, what happened?

it ain’t hard to start where the pleasure stops
what is is knowing that the love does not
what is is knowing that the love does

- sol hardy

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