in our hair and there's a fine silt on every mantle from hell's kitchen to Brooklyn and the streets are full of stories sudden twists and near misses
but the sighing and dying of our world. But for suffering we might have been a part of it rather than apart from it. * Making the compromises, Brave
Caught her with her head up funny stomach from the hunger pains Flashed automatic b-boy with big visions In a matchbox apartment adjacent a crooked starship Who better nation
my heart Taking its toll upon my heart This corporation is just feed filler, seed spiller Hell bent on tearing us apart Hell bent on tearing us apart My king of the nation
on a global basis." "Have the hostage story blow up in our face." "We've got big economic problems but we are not coming apart at the seems." "The
seven inch cowboy How do you be? And I'm used to people gawking and a-staring at me But I wasn't always so gol-darned wee Let me tell you my story
Bulletproof now, pistol holsters under the arm pits Ready to go out in the blaze of glory Standin' firm on the deck makin' the front page story When
little bitch and remininsce But instead I'll kick a little history all about the hatchet By this time in the game, most motherfuckers fell apart In
song of the century That sings like American eulogy The dawn of my love and conspiracy Of forgotten hope and the class of 13 Tell me a story into that
see and feel but the sighing and dying of our world. But for suffering we might have been a part of it rather than apart from it. * Making the compromises
holsters under the arm pits Ready to go out in the blaze of glory Standin' firm on the deck makin' the front-page story [Chorus] When your mobs' at your
I walk alone, endless seas of souls around me His face it told of the mad existence, a silent story And just how they took him, they tore a free soul
x2] [Killah Priest:] The ghetto street chew up - it's bricks The bricks eat thru the wall The wall is now on an apartment The apartment tears apart two