okay everyone, put away your boyish desires, your bouyant sighs,
your rolling eyes, your lust for rolling rock.
your lust for getting rocks off with other's follies,
all your desires for couch and tv, pick up a book, pick up a shovel.
put down the gun, throw the fist.
throw intelligent words in this game of conversation.
try a new arrangement, dollars and sensibility,
intelligence and ability, eloquence and nobility, delicatessens.
treat your girl like you treat your tv.
how you should use your headphones as positive role models.
try staying home, stop trying to prove, stop trying to be,
stop trying to do, just be, prove, do, and exist.
go to college, respect your mother, look out for your little sister,
respect no one except yourself.
treat all others how you expect in return,
exercise intellect, if you lack it, pretend.
call few people enemies and call fewer people friends.
don’t do it for the wealth, do it all for the love.
love everything you do, and do nothing half-heartedly.
be what you speak, man, never speak on what you be.
even if you’re lost, front like you got a plan.
it ain't that hard, but stand if you’re ready to be a man.

dose one:
i come to you with one heart broken in two,
lashed hands, and many flaw, a man.
in return i ask only an ego that's unbiased listen,
to what i speak of, offers freedom from mind,
freedom from a focused impulse, free.
and not at all the spangled, yankee-doodle,
union, musket, and compass sense of liberty
which our forefathers in holy-wood have fed and sold us for scores.
i’m eluding, and rightfully so, to salvage clear-headedness
of composed fated state of human being no grand inquisitor myself.
i pour forth a pensive, frown upon and frustrated, humble, however furious.
this reason for being here, this well you’ve found is phenomenal alone.
in the immortal words of oliver wendell holmes,
"a mind that is stretched to a new idea never returns to its original dimension."
simplistically, topsoil is no seashell full of bitter ocean body, but it can be.
changing for and from, triumph to mystery, every somehow has a place,
where you dare not set foot and can’t see a thing.
so weave those silver threads into soul-leveled bonds,
and be unbounded no longer,
manipulative, let it go. go, let the wandering take it all in.
generate, make you yours, my masters, my pupils, my equals,
drop, decorate, i implore you, just think.

let me address you with two conflicting topics at this moment,
two paths, i’ve roamed it. intention to hit home with this discussion.
and make you pawn to strengthen your words,
not talking racial connotation, but loosely tied with bees and birds.
also loosely tied with opposites, the depths of negativity in your soul.
let it take control and you can see deeper into the hole,
of self-destruction, it's obstruction of the opposite feeling.
my fellow men and women, it's love and hate with which we are dealing.
i’ve experienced both words, let’s ponder my theory and thought,
on these two and the correlation that each other has brought.
i’ve sought the answer and i’ve found hate is stronger than love,
i love to hate you, i hate to love you. hate always ends up above.
it’s much easier to say you hate than to say you love a person,
but easier to say you love material or love currency when it’s dispersin'.
i’ve realized long ago that neither word is a delicate topic so
hence the circle on my finger, i.d.o., on that day was my flow.
and although i see many problems in my fellow man,
hatred of others is absolutely not my master plan.
my other spiritual half has taught me much about my true feelings.
i was slipping into mental remission but was brought into the healing process.
i consider myself blessed when i think,
floating up above the majority makes others look like they stink.
hating, you give up nothing, love, you give it up all,
so i smirk at all of ya'll while you await my downfall.

the lake dove into when you finally acknowledge that i’m not pretending.
follow the language, the direction, the dialect,
the cadence, the enunciation, emphasis, pretentiousness.
assumptions, makin an ass of you,
point a in the air you share with me,
point b, now draw a straight line connecting us.
wait, wait man, who’s not paying attention?
see, class here’s the problem,
ya'll all need to stop resting and collectin' dust.
my stance resembles anger but no your perception’s crooked,
now be some good little bastards, turn your textbooks to page seven.
where it reads that god got drunk, drove heaven into a tree,
now there’s no reasons left for you to continue to breathe.
haha, just joking, only trying to see who’s listenin'.
now heads up, time to test the potential of your faults.
and the results will stay confidential,
for as long as you face the front of your self-esteem,
lose focus, get broken at the seams.
let’s open up the discussion for comments to complement
your circumcised mind state while i write on your anxieties.
trying to speak to the class and justify the act
of pointing my finger at your head and asking you "what the fuck is that?!"
thank you, thank you.

Lyrics submitted by detoxwalk

The Scarecrow Speaks song meanings
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  • +1
    General Comment"trying to speak to the class and justify the act
    of pointing my finger at your head and asking you "what the fuck is that?!""

    Haha sick song
    CRWon December 27, 2007   Link
  • +1
    General CommentI can't begin to fathom the level of profound thought this masterpiece has given me.
    Horroron September 15, 2010   Link
  • 0
    General CommentPretty straightforward. "Think!" "Be!" "Do!" Awesome bunch of guys.
    vinyinnyincyon December 07, 2010   Link

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