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letra de cross gates estates - the mad conductor

i used to own a place up in cross gates estates
’til the market crash left me flat on my face
i was never broke before
now i’m soaking open sores in morton’s
forced to more important wars
currently my weather board says “made in ecuador”
and snoring on the concrete flooring left me sore
plus i don’t got a match to light the stove
i gotta scratch stone to bone in cypress grove
as a kid they read me fixed encyclopedias
on daily news while vixens spiked the media
i laid obediently in my cage until they said i made the age
then a butcher stepped forward and raised a blade
i knew that he was infamous for missin’ hits
when kids with quicker wits resist his mission
so i slipped between his legs and kicked his ankle
as he did a split i strangled neck
and with a twist it left a mangled mess
my angle less obtuse in mexico upon a hammock
drinking mango juice
seven cops around me sayin’ “dame tu dinero”
“y las llaves de tu canyonero”
now i wish i was in the states
instead of chained and stampin’ plates
i made one for me
it says “cxg e-13 3”

we’re friends until the end and back
remember that
and if you ever crack i’ll be your mental medevac
i recall standin’ in abandoned factories about to fall
to smash remainin’ panes from out the frames
civil disobedience will clean your brain
’til you revolt against the bolts that keep you sane
stare, seance in my lair
blarin’ slayer on my record player
everybody’s there except the mayor
bombarded by the chief of police and his fleets
we leaped from our seats and seeped into the streets
like escaped circus freaks
i was deep beneath the murk asleep
when the manifold burst a leak
eruption from the sewer, pure toxic ecto-cooler
there’s chaos in the town
i hope we find a cure
and once the skies are bluer
we’ll arise a newer colonized society
where all is quietly at peace, i hope the beast will sleep
long and sound beneath our feet
and always let our island be
i live a life with no steady rhythm
but if you need to talk let me listen
even if my head is missin’

when things are difficult like lighting matches in chicago
i don’t go against the grain i follow
and when things are chillin’ like a lizard on my ceiling
i’m never disillusioned in the feeling

when things are difficult like lighting matches in chicago
i don’t go against the grain i follow
and when things are chillin’ like a lizard on my living room ceiling
i’m never disillusioned in the feeling

- the mad conductor

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