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letra de over half vs. the end of everything - the other half

[spoken word] [alexei berrow]
we’re all stood out here on the sharp end of some legacy
i wish i had some rich uncles in the industry who could bankroll me
and while that’s actually true, i do, we’re not really that kind of family
like everyone in this city
making marks is for marks, make enough to make escape velocity
build the club, get some kids who believe, make some money
sell the club, take their money and just leavе
i had no idea at the time, i was fivе
a child wondering why the vodka bottle labels are upside down at aunty joans
or why there’s speakers wrapped up in tarps poking out of the grass in the backyard
well child there’s gonna be a fire
there comes a point when any business you build will expire so the trick is just to get in first
leave a door unlatched and let the boys do the worst
you’d be surprised at just how often it happens
pushes up the premiums so you have to plan carefully
i guess that’s why they chose to diversify
deny a glorious trilogy, make pop history
left the family with a brand of big wednesday mediocrity
some legacy
but the biographies all attest that the second was the best
that’s when the scene started picking up press
they had the decor imported, all the sh-t that new york did
all that snow to be snorted, white christmas, gold h–rding until nme let the hordes in
they made their mark and the marks just poured in, all the starry eye’d students adoring
stole ashtrays faster than reordering but at this point the band were recording
and the common carnage of the club scene club is just boring
so someone sold them a cellar in the centre of town
divert the students underground where they can water drinks down
make a list of the hits and just stick to it but make sure the dj thinks they’re the important bit
it’s all about the sounds, not the clubs that house them
and holy f-ck when they found them they found them
went from house band fame to household name in the time it takes to construct a yacht
and with 20 off the top, what else you got? am i bitter? no. could i do better? no
my aunty joan says that ozzy himself laid bricks
and like, the timeline doesn’t match but the narrative fits
how every local favour gets called in when you’re leaving
all them bright-eyed local bands, building the box they’ll be buried in
and they called it sn0bs, because the family would prefer it if you all got jobs
and understood how much replacing those imported coke mirrors cost
it’s cheaper just to fit them on yachts, good god that’s grim
the idea, the execution
the gaping chasm that’s spread between the two of them
the intention and the movement
i definitely mentioned that more times that i should have

but nothing penetrates that tiny head
slab thick with nothing much to say
besides babbling like a baby about past indiscretions
things that i told you were always gonna happen

i’ll be dead eventually and none of this will bother me
the boot, the brick, the brain between
the smile i forced when you eyeballed me

but did you listen? not even once
discounting gospel as something like a hunch
but i know you, and your futures
i’ve seen every one and they’re only getting bleaker

so please believe me when i said that i made you
stitched you together from the dregs and scr-ps and debris
every sinew, every vein, every grim thought that bounces round that brain

i’ll be dead eventually and none of this will bother me
the boot, the brick, the brain between
the smile i forced when you eyeballed me

- the other half

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