CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Calm Like a Bomb (Live, Mexico City, Mexico, October 28, 1999)
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
I be walkin' God like a dog, my narrative, fearless
Word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris
Steel from a furnace, I was born landless
This is the native son, born of Zapata’s guns
Through the shanties and the cities' remains
Same bodies buried hungry but with different last names
These vultures rob everything, leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on the globe, the picture's the same
A bank and a church, a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth
A widow pig parrot, rebel to tame
A white-hooded judge, a syringe and a vein
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
I’m calm like a bomb
I'm calm like a bomb
This ain't subliminal, feel the critical mass approach horizon
The pulse of the condemned, sound off America's demise
The anti-myth rhythm rock shocker, yes, I spit fire
Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires
Back through the shanties and the cities' remains
Same bodies buried hungry, but with different last names
Vultures robbin' everyone, leave nothing but chains
Pick a point here at home, the picture's the same
Field full of slaves, some corn and some debt
A ditch full of bodies, check for the rent
There's the tap, the phone, the silence of stone
The numb black screen that be feelin’ like home
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
I’m calm like a bomb
I'm calm like a bomb
I’m calm like a bomb
I'm calm like a bomb
[Guitar solo]
I'm calm like a bomb
There's a mass without roofs, a prison to fill
A country’s soul that reads post no bills
A strike and a line of cops outside of the mill
A right to obey and a right to kill
A mass without roofs, a prison to fill
A country's soul that reads post no bills
A strike and a line of cops outside of the mill
A right to obey and a right to kill
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Feel the funk blast
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
I be walkin' God like a dog, my narrative, fearless
Word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris
Steel from a furnace, I was born landless
This is the native son, born of Zapata’s guns
Through the shanties and the cities' remains
Same bodies buried hungry but with different last names
These vultures rob everything, leave nothing but chains
Pick a point on the globe, the picture's the same
A bank and a church, a myth and a hearse
A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth
A widow pig parrot, rebel to tame
A white-hooded judge, a syringe and a vein
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
I’m calm like a bomb
I'm calm like a bomb
This ain't subliminal, feel the critical mass approach horizon
The pulse of the condemned, sound off America's demise
The anti-myth rhythm rock shocker, yes, I spit fire
Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires
Back through the shanties and the cities' remains
Same bodies buried hungry, but with different last names
Vultures robbin' everyone, leave nothing but chains
Pick a point here at home, the picture's the same
Field full of slaves, some corn and some debt
A ditch full of bodies, check for the rent
There's the tap, the phone, the silence of stone
The numb black screen that be feelin’ like home
And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
What you say, what you say, what you say, what?
I’m calm like a bomb
I'm calm like a bomb
I’m calm like a bomb
I'm calm like a bomb
[Guitar solo]
I'm calm like a bomb
There's a mass without roofs, a prison to fill
A country’s soul that reads post no bills
A strike and a line of cops outside of the mill
A right to obey and a right to kill
A mass without roofs, a prison to fill
A country's soul that reads post no bills
A strike and a line of cops outside of the mill
A right to obey and a right to kill
