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letra de bit01: unspoken (snow) - thom baum & .m

(unspoken)

[hook] x4 thom baum

it feels real for the first time
i feel real for the first time
you feel real for the first time
a machine grinding to life

[verse 1] .m

i’m a phantom in the flesh
floating breath up out this bag of skin
set to molest the guest
who let me in her legs again
she knows i’m good at vanishing
i dissapate into the wind
she leaves her window open
just in case it’s time to blow again
i float amidst this abyss of dying art
haunt the pencil tips in the dark
beyond the dissonance with a propped up face
to expose my grin slowly smoke my spliffs
when i kick this pit of papers
from these stolen myths
with no time or place to know my kids
so i shy away when i expose my sins

[hook]

[verse 2] thom baum

it feels real for the first time
i feel real for the first time
you feel real for the first time
a machine grinding to life
a ghost caught in a moment
a witches spell unspoken
the mortal sacrifice of tokens
a reality quickly broken
a generation lost in praying
a moment frozen the ocean’s waiting
we’re strictly stoking staking
these sticks are quickly breaking
these wishes i’ve taken
they drift and drip to satan
my penmaship is vacant
i should quit making statements

[hook]

[interlude] freamon / sydnor

freamon: … won’t show up on a campaign finance report and my guess is that clay davis knows about that too

sydnor: i don’t know man, i like street work more

freamon: you’d rather sit in a surveillance van for days on end waiting to catch tater handing peewee a vial? this detective is what you’re telling me? a case like this here: where you show who gets paid behind all the tragedy and the fraud. where you show how the money routes itself, how we’re all, all of us vested, all of us complicit?

sydnor: career case, huh?

freamon: baby, i could die happy

(snow)

[verse 1] .m

cruise around in stolen cars
losing pounds out open jars
bruised beat down with broken jaws
silky sick red alcohol
seen my friends all rot away in sp-ce and dissipate
the room sets in like razorblades
i blaze in place displacer gate
splicer spite of spiders
an all nighter got no lighter
but my fire fighting higher
to no sire my empire
reach for cider sit down slowly
lowly bottom world is ghostly
she suboxone i’m a rollie
my eyes wander they don’t know me

[verse 2] thom baum

i’m lacking emotion no lack of a motive
i’m blasting explosive introvert imploded
trust has eroded images controlling
flagstaff polling vision is potion
p-ssing a notion dividing a quotient
implying a moment i’m so hopeless
i’m lost floating this noose roping
body is so bloated mind stuck coping
i’m skating coping breathing or choking
laughter or joking these pastors probing
the banks are loaning sub prime homing
missles hone in particle blowing
another zone in reality is coded
time is slowing you don’t notice
fight water rowing follow a boat in
vision going mind’s burrowing

[hook]

- thom baum m

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