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letra de day fourteen: pulse mavens - trap them

saw him get his death march on…
saw him light the aisles with hidden handjobs
sheltered from the masters’ baiting crowns
in overzealous crowds
in undernourished sounds
i know what you want, grey wanderl-st
you want to walk into each and every room
and see a photograph that shreds your chest
and makes it hard to see
but makes it worth it to breathe
they don’t sell it ’round here no more
so put your shoes back on and get your hopes all gone
it’s all come up wrong, it’s all come up unbelonged
well, if you want to stay ’til dawn
i can tell you where the guns are kept
and you can shoot your warning shots
and hear the cries of all of those in debt
because you see here, beginner reconstructor
we’ve planted fruits of labor/wrath that find themselves
fully ripened on every passing bl–dy path
and they are free to those
who knew the names of crime design and love unkind
they are free to those like us…
those who’ve been left behind
it’s all wrong
it’s all unbelonged
and the s-d-st air raid blares to faces in the tar
as we murder the ghosts that held this town
saw the structures fall apart and raise foundations
into forget city under exhibitionist regimes
stamp the hands, pull the t–th
and k!ll the ones in need
so i’ll tell you, runner… i’ll tell you
you can live the life, you can take your time
and you can f-ck ’til you feel
but it won’t break the bread they make
they own, they sell, they steal
because as long as they have bones
to snap and grind into the welcome wheel
they’ll take your fix for another meal
and they’ll send you to the end of the line
you can live your days like i’ve f-cked my nights…
with a death march on our minds

- trap them

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