This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
Suspicious in bright light
Too much red rim around the white
Cheap silk that wraps the body tight
And one by one seconds drip by
There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before
But it's sweet they try
Not a single tree in sight
Fluorescents strip the skin bone dry
And pock marks fill and shadows fight
There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before
But it's sweet they try
One heel is broken
Her hands do shake
And ranting is her speech, wrong is always on the wake
It makes you watch her with all your thoughts deranged
The challenge is to put her last humility to shame
There's something in the stare,
Though,
It's not for sure she's there
Dirty strands do veil the face
Small tattoos named big mistakes
She whispers when she talks strangling bottles of escape
Violent sympathy, white rage
Violent sympathy, white rage
Run
Hold on tight and start to squeeze
Blank expression in degrees
This is not at all your best
Try your hardest, do your worst
Try your hardest do your worst
This is not at all your best
Hold on tight and start to squeeze
Blank expression in degrees
Suspicious in bright light
Too much red rim around the white
Cheap silk that wraps the body tight
And one by one seconds drip by
There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before
But it's sweet they try
Belted to the waist on stilts of trembling
The locket hinge digs in like marks of teeth on skin
The memory of dust
Just shapes of fading rust that
Moves when she's alone and speaks to no one home
The memory of dust like shapes of fading rust
Hands stained [???]
Hands wave to no one's home
Heel is broken, her hands do shake
And ranting is her speech, wrong is always on the wake
It makes you watch her with all your thoughts deranged
The challenge is to put her last humility to shame
There's something in the stare
Though
It's not for sure she's there
Dirty strands do veil the face
Small tattoos named big mistakes
She whispers when she talks hoardering bottles of escape
Violence, sympathy, white rage
Violence, sympathy, white rage
Hold on tight and start to squeeze
This is not at all your worst
All your worst
Too much red rim around the white
Cheap silk that wraps the body tight
And one by one seconds drip by
There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before
But it's sweet they try
Not a single tree in sight
Fluorescents strip the skin bone dry
And pock marks fill and shadows fight
There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before
But it's sweet they try
One heel is broken
Her hands do shake
And ranting is her speech, wrong is always on the wake
It makes you watch her with all your thoughts deranged
The challenge is to put her last humility to shame
There's something in the stare,
Though,
It's not for sure she's there
Dirty strands do veil the face
Small tattoos named big mistakes
She whispers when she talks strangling bottles of escape
Violent sympathy, white rage
Violent sympathy, white rage
Run
Hold on tight and start to squeeze
Blank expression in degrees
This is not at all your best
Try your hardest, do your worst
Try your hardest do your worst
This is not at all your best
Hold on tight and start to squeeze
Blank expression in degrees
Suspicious in bright light
Too much red rim around the white
Cheap silk that wraps the body tight
And one by one seconds drip by
There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before
But it's sweet they try
Belted to the waist on stilts of trembling
The locket hinge digs in like marks of teeth on skin
The memory of dust
Just shapes of fading rust that
Moves when she's alone and speaks to no one home
The memory of dust like shapes of fading rust
Hands stained [???]
Hands wave to no one's home
Heel is broken, her hands do shake
And ranting is her speech, wrong is always on the wake
It makes you watch her with all your thoughts deranged
The challenge is to put her last humility to shame
There's something in the stare
Though
It's not for sure she's there
Dirty strands do veil the face
Small tattoos named big mistakes
She whispers when she talks hoardering bottles of escape
Violence, sympathy, white rage
Violence, sympathy, white rage
Hold on tight and start to squeeze
This is not at all your worst
All your worst
Lyrics submitted by T_D_Phoenix
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Punchline
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Wow. Powerful lyrics. It's about a prostitute who has been through it all, one whom you see as a stranger on the corner. "There's nothing they can do to her that hasn't been done before But it's sweet they try" and "This is not at all your best. Try your hardest, do your worst." describe the many men who have sex with and damage her even more. She just stares with a blank expression.
The figurative language in this song (and most MAOB songs) is brilliant. My favorite is the paradox, "violent sympathy, white rage."
Julie Christmas is a fucking goddess.
MAOB? You mean "MOOB"? Made. Out. Of. Babies. "MOB" works well too.<br /> Idiot. Learn to acronym.<br /> <br /> However, I do agree with you about the interp. and about Julie Christmas.
You're the idiot. I was using the Old Latin spelling of "Out," or "Aout," because "moob" would refer to the obese male breast.<br /> Fucking moron, learn to Literature.
Dude, calm down with the language; cursing is unnecessary. There was obviously some miscommunication. Let's just settle with the fact that we both have the same views on this song and band. Btw, wtf is Old Latin? Actually, nevermind. I don't want to argue anymore.
O.K., that's true. We should be taking our frustrations out on people who are against bands like M.O.B. (lol). If we stop bickering and start sharing our points of view, I think you'll find that we, in fact, would have a lot in common.
. . .