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UKArchive ID: 28041everything gone wrong by royrodel
Originally published on August 20, 2012 in Song Lyrics

everything gone wrong



I saw people looking at their derelict surrounds
selling someone else's thought for pence and pounds
fed dried humor with death pursuing from the cot
the legend of the brave son was legend,that's how they were taught
buried in the dark regions of their fruitless mind
inhaling all the poison in the prison that binds

Then they think the things that make it seem improbable
living in a state of fear with all hope in the hands of the unaccountable
No books of truth were on display in the market square
no one asking how,where or why,they wouldn't dare
they didn't want to be stocked,didn't need the trouble
in their home where life was becoming unaffordable

Freedoms songs were a dirty slur on being messed up and out of touch
they couldn't turn of their radio or tv because it hurt to much
class war turned into neighbour war screaming at each other for a little peace
smoking and drinking the spoils of profit to get their release
damned if they do,damned if they don't heading for the graveyard
with the regret of failure disgusting, calling from a mind so scarred

The devil may be all around but they can't talk about that
their young knew they were fakers and what was what
they wore the mark of the follower full of dread
waiting for the tide to ebb and flow,pulling at the threads
with no inspiration calling out from their sea of oblivion
watery eyed, just standing all alone in their own contamination

Even when the man climbed to the top of the mountain they said he was lying
they just bowed their heads broke open their childs piggy bank and sighed
a case of wine and two weeks away from the well oiled mobile phones
with their relatives derranged as they spraypaint their name on the headstones
told lies from spiritualist revolutionaries their lonliness evolves
into something they can't recall from their mind that's been dissolved

Suprise is something that is left to the programme makers for entertainment
like the death of rock 'n' roll government propaganda and the liars statement
corrupting the death defying dream of the knowledge of understanding
the fall and rise of man and a history written by the victors who were repenting
to something hidden in the conscience of thinkers falling to the floor yawning
scratching,convulsing at the temptation of being a rebel without causing to much disruption

So you know Jesus Mohammed Smith from your dreams in the dark night
a second cousin that you can't hold until the dark of twilight
as the prophets pat themselves on the back down in the basement
with the soft top down and the wind in their face just looking for acknowledgement
and an itchy finger pointing at anyone who dares to question or deny
their slow train coming out off the dark mysterious night sky

If you got the wonga, they'll tell you that you're anything but ugly
sell you dreams of paradise, a million miles away in a foreign country
sit you on your throne for a tip or two,take you into hell and back
what you gonna scream that won't result in seperating the white from the black
guess you heard the billions sighing,crying singing the same song
maybe some day you'll question your loves and hates and everything gone wrong








© royrodel (royrodel on OLD UKA)
UKArchive ID: 28041
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