CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : What Kind Are You?

This bread that we speak of, it ain't sourdough
But it'll leave a sour taste in one's mouth though
Cat and mouse show
We chase it for hours for a wage we should outlaw
The minimum's criminal we should wage an all-out war
But us poor probably slowest to uprise
Starting the day groggy or hungover is the price
That we pay, cause as soon as we get paid
We spend it on good times to be had (Oh, behave)
A night on the town, in denial we drown
Not the river in Egypt, but a river of cheap liquor
Another night that we won't even rеmember
After anothеr day of our dream's withering
This Heaven Noise employs me, which means I'm my own boss
Tryna profit off how much these downloads cost
On the side, I keep working these lame jobs
And telling myself it'll be worth it when Lame drops

But I don't got no expectations
Just hope and faith in what I put on these pages
I have patience
I'm not sure if it's a virtue or just the circ*mstances I'm faced with
(It's why) I don't got no expectations
Just the love and the hate that makes up these arrangements
Accept no imitations
This is real life, in so many ways we waste it
What kind are you who fell from grace
So strange
Follow me until the flowers bloom
Cuff your heart in mine, my colors comfort you

Modern day chain gang, maintain the status quo
Dance to the ringing bell, get in line, kill our hope
Electrical lemming, blended with billing
Ship and receive in reception, logistical cubicle-dwelling folk
Punch it in, punch it out
Numb me up, dumb it down
Hit my ceiling around 12
There's no one around, hell
It's all in my feelings, yell at myself
When I see myself killing dreams of myself before I'm waking
Some people say a man is made out of mud
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood
One fist made of iron and the other of steel
If the right don't hit you then the left one will
You spit 16 bars and what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt
Saint Peter, don't you call, because I just can't go
I owe my soul to the company flow
Oh, oh
Follow me into the afternoon
Withered words are sound in an empty room
I am not anything you seem to think I was
What kind are you who fell from grace
So strange
Follow me until the flowers bloom
Cuff your heart in mine, my colors comfort you

Big business takes little business
Little business needs meal tickets
And education for the little children
Medication for the sick and bed-ridden, man
Look at our conditions, time's ticking
That's when the unions' picket
Outside of white fences with schemes of how to get rich quick
We at the bottom the pyramid, food chain, and the barrel
We experience the mood changes, slay the pharaoh
Paid slaves, behave on the straight-and-narrow
Eyes on the sparrow, harkening the heroine imperil
Voice of the little guy, bringing the house down, hey
I know you feel it man, this is the countdown, hey
Reach for the ceiling fan and praise every job found
Raise wages like the roof on this compound
Calm down, I'm sure they planning the bail out
Pale horse outside of the pale house
Follow me into the afternoon
Withered words are sound in an empty room
I am not anything you seem to think I was
What kind are you who fell from grace
So strange
Follow me until the flowers bloom
Cuff your heart in mine, my colors comfort you

And I don't got no expectations
But this world's gonna change for the better
We facing a lot of trouble today
It's worth the trouble to pray
Take a minute out your day, your thoughts racing
Clear your head, give thanks for the air you breathe
Even if you taste the radiation
Let me rephrase it: this light fades in so many ways
(Don't waste it)