Traditions tells us to stand in line and be good citizens, to take pride in our loyalty go through life with a sense of duty and a sense of accomplishment
was a tall whiskey glass I was an old hound dog that just loved to chase his tail until I met a blind man who taught me how to see a blind man who could
[speaking] yeah i be acting crazy rapping nasty but dont get me wrong i god sense ima thank god on this song this song is dedcated to all the homeboys
[Chorus] What's going on what could it be What's going on it seems to me A sense of focus focus I know somebody knows this Your life your path your essence
You can close you eyes and pretend that everything's fine but sooner or later you'll open your eyes and reality will strike you blind They're stealing
whoa-oh, ohhh All day I saw around you Constuction of lies Tear apart your insides They're whispers Not suggestions Liar icons Too full of sense of direction Blind
The world's impermanent A mirage we'll see only if we escape the dream Gaze far beyond the bend That blinds and chains the sense captured in reality
this game! Through senses, what can we explain? Not joy, not guilt, not pain. Is love the same? This senseless argument in vain erodes my sense of shame
watched the last escaping breath. I just saw a life turn into death. For them to claim it doesn't count is reckless, blind ignorance. A cry for help
Nothing could save the Baptist Not cross, not altar, nor crucifix Old time lays waste the spirit Without condoning or condemning A complex sense of purpose
prosecution: "then, then you should die!" [Pre-Chorus:] Why are we to blind to see our guilts? Why first we kill, then see it lived? Lost hopes, broken sense
it While on their knees Never knowing what they really crave They got no values They got no soul No sense of purpose Nothing to believe Call me your friend Then steal me blind
the warnings they gave. It will try to tear us apart. But in unity we are saved. Ignorant and blind, It threatens from afar. No sense within it's
, no varying perceptions Just an author and his camera, filming his own reflection I can't promise that one day any of this will make sense Between logic
We're in trouble all the time you read about us all in the papers We walk around and bump into walls a blind delegation yeah And we ain't afraid of high
bad strategy in a naive space to listen to the erective instincts bloodied from the sense of guilt she?s making her way out of the blind alley the