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letra de ghost, assassinating other ghosts - sole and the skyrider band

when their spirits were broken, twigs and rope no longer held the ceiling
the sun in, screaming mad, all they heard was silence
throwing their hands up to catch the last drop
and the one who got hit stood beaming
selfishly smiling as if, those who lie the best make better leaders
you fought for every breath
and when your chest caved in, you saw the direction that the wind was blowing
when the water stopped flowing, no one was surprised
why do you write nonsense?
or channel nonsense, like a solar panel
in a lull, and why, some prefer lullabies than a synopsis
dead open, an old man’s scheme for self destruction
looking up at us in awe foolishly as if we finally made it
but then again, all of my labor is alienated
all of my coins tossed in a furnace, and only the devil knows what to do about it
so don’t go getting you razors in a bunch, there’s no time, no sun, no sky
no earth to collect you when you cave
no candlestick to hold you to like a promise in a far away land, to bring freedom
no one wants to make a move, and then you slip, and time won’t pick up your t–th when you drop
or tie what’s left of you to a lamp post
you were carved from the finest rot, on the finest rock, and they won’t mind on the day you stop breathing

i’ve been to omaha, been to france, been to the minnesota mall
and i can’t get this stupid song out of my head
been chipped down to the core, a raw nerve
don’t push me i might loose my mind again, for all that is still good in the world
why are we here to dig holes and mine for iron, and hopefully make good like a trojan horse
or choke out all of my nemesises without ever lifting a finger
i’m full of hate, i should be running the country
they call me castro with converse, but i’m more agent cooper than that
too bakunin for your backpack rap
you could’ve thought i was german the way i burned them bridges
you could’ve thought i was driving off a cliff the way i learned them ledges
but what them ledges know

not to confuse you with words, or beat myself to shreds in a dead language
i want to be where the rain is
hard as i try man, i can’t change this
my home isn’t on a range, it’s under a blade, in a cave in a sheath
i’m a bad dream and my owner won’t wake up
i’m not lost at sea or even hung out to dry
i’m a skeleton playing poker with a fat man
slapping the bartender, cuz he can’t k!ll my woes
yet he pretends to understand humanity for a small free
every hour you work, an hour you drink, an hour you sleep and not a single minute of the day is yours
not the acid in your pores or the monkeys beating us with our own brains
with futures we ain’t yet seen…
ancient malls, overgrown like roman ruins without the cl-ss
our generation will be remembered for our greatest works, our trinkets at spencer’s gifts
this world is dead to me, i’m in debt to it, i’m in bed with a thermometer poring into my skull
and if i twitch i’m a dead man as if i wasn’t already, or i’ll never be again
of mice and men i can deal with mice, but man ain’t worth the carbon he occupies
(lets do this)

sleeping in a tin can, i woke up late
they say i’m a bad pilgrim, but all i have is faith running through my hands like ants
like my last advance, like a non master of circ-mstance
this tale, be it dismal has no heroes but ghosts, -ss-ssinating other ghosts
been a year since i seen the coast
desert like an ocean, although i’ve seen more than most it ain’t enough
these eyes are stomachs, stomach’s like a labor camp

- sole and the skyrider band

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