just around five o'clock
the cars are screaming around the block
the boy is scared and looking around
and screaming a little bit anxious
i think he's searching for his mother
what did you find on the white van?
facing this prospect i set out for todays
over introspection i feast upon decay
around me is miss fortune, my avenue, our spades
digging all the so-called diggers digging his own grave
permit me, mr. indecision, watch his machine cave
end up on itself and watch one debit i win and mince our way
the seats are best from over there out beyond the shade
my diggers in their dirty coats their attitude of spays
passing the inspection now
now this is every day
special forces special boots
the stomper comes to pay
fancy men so oversuited for the final days
keep the prince in timely chintz
ring out the barren child at bay
christen me disaster, at least thats what i say
into which the thing determines which way she decays
keeping loads of sunshine i love the job i play
digging out this whole shitty world
digging it today
white world
captain, what else did you find?
not all i'll find
feeling negation
my vindication
to know nothing exists
opens up and water lift
fortunes of my emptiness
silly putty open door
looking up to take it out
settle in and catch a show
residuation
yell indication
feels like a clock i ate
ticking in this toxic state
ready for an occupant
suck it up to sniff the bait
sniffing out the weakest link
rising from the righteous stink
see stimulations speak
to take a piece of me
over towards the light
pull the chain we're burning bright
in a fall to break the rope
firmly placed around my throat
inching worm of sand becomes
a slipping through my finger burn
aesop seclusion
my old intrusion
upon my waking state
each of us must face their fate
crawling wicked crawl some more
broken body gray on floor
pulling through the face of love
pushing back to push some more
the cars are screaming around the block
the boy is scared and looking around
and screaming a little bit anxious
i think he's searching for his mother
over introspection i feast upon decay
around me is miss fortune, my avenue, our spades
digging all the so-called diggers digging his own grave
permit me, mr. indecision, watch his machine cave
end up on itself and watch one debit i win and mince our way
the seats are best from over there out beyond the shade
my diggers in their dirty coats their attitude of spays
passing the inspection now
now this is every day
special forces special boots
the stomper comes to pay
fancy men so oversuited for the final days
keep the prince in timely chintz
ring out the barren child at bay
christen me disaster, at least thats what i say
into which the thing determines which way she decays
keeping loads of sunshine i love the job i play
digging out this whole shitty world
digging it today
not all i'll find
my vindication
to know nothing exists
opens up and water lift
fortunes of my emptiness
silly putty open door
looking up to take it out
settle in and catch a show
residuation
yell indication
feels like a clock i ate
ticking in this toxic state
ready for an occupant
suck it up to sniff the bait
sniffing out the weakest link
rising from the righteous stink
see stimulations speak
to take a piece of me
over towards the light
pull the chain we're burning bright
in a fall to break the rope
firmly placed around my throat
inching worm of sand becomes
a slipping through my finger burn
aesop seclusion
my old intrusion
upon my waking state
each of us must face their fate
crawling wicked crawl some more
broken body gray on floor
pulling through the face of love
pushing back to push some more
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
WHITEVAN facing this prospect i settle for today's over-introspection i feast upon decay around me is misfortune my avenue of spades digging all the so-called diggers digging his own grave meet me, mr. indecision watch his machine cave in upon itself then wash wash dinner time then the rinse away
the scenes are best from over there out beyond the shade my diggers in their dirty coats the attitude of spades
passing the inspection, no, now this is everyday special forces special boots to stomp or comes to play fancy men so over-suited for the final days keep the prints in timely tense wring out the bearing child at bay
christen me disaster at least that's what i say into which the thing determines which rate he decays keeping loads of sunshine i love with the job i play digging out this whole shitty world digging it today
white world
need indication my vindication to know nothing exists opens all to "what" & "if" portions of my emptiness sitting by the open door looking up to take it out settle in to catch the show
read situation dead indication feels like a clock i ate ticking in this toxic state ready for an occupant suck it up to sniff the paint sniffing up the weakest link rising from the righteous stink
see simulation speak to take a piece of me held by 2 walls of life hope and shame we're burning bright in the palm to brace the rope firmly placed around my throat inching worm upstanding comes and slipping through my finger burns
in such seclusion my own intrusion upon my waking state each of us must face their fates crawling wicked crawl some more broken body crayon floor pulling through to face the flaw pushing back you push some more
Oh, yeah. and it's "what did you find?" "a white van" What else did you find?" "i'm not color-blind."
Oh, yeah. and it's "what did you find?" "a white van" What else did you find?" "i'm not color-blind."
THAT is the worst transcription I have ever seen in my LIFE.
in what sense?
in what sense?
and, oh, yeah. the subject is shadow government.
Color blind? See the world in black and white... Spread butter on that clock like in that one story or is it movie, not sure. But time moves so fast when your clock is gone because you ate it. Only going back in time could make the time slow down. You're like those guys in every movie, eating doughnuts in a white van parked inconspicuously on the street. And you're eating those doughnuts with headphones on listening in, listening for important info. Just listening in the van for hours on end. Inspection, doesn't pass the smell test (flaw). Need a close pin for the nose... OR HAHA it shouldn't smell so bad.
In addition to the deeper, more exact meaning I've posted above...
In addition to the deeper, more exact meaning I've posted above...
You're also perhaps looking at the fact that the current state of the world was first set in motion by white people. Like the whole world got thrown in a White Van, it's the "white man's" vehicle that we're driving in these days. It's not like some new van with TVs and DVD players though. It's a beat up piece of shit van with duct tape all over it created in the last 1000 years or something. It's leaking unknown liquids all over the pavement, the windows are blacked...
You're also perhaps looking at the fact that the current state of the world was first set in motion by white people. Like the whole world got thrown in a White Van, it's the "white man's" vehicle that we're driving in these days. It's not like some new van with TVs and DVD players though. It's a beat up piece of shit van with duct tape all over it created in the last 1000 years or something. It's leaking unknown liquids all over the pavement, the windows are blacked out... it's that really creepy van you won't see on "Pimp My Ride."
White World
This song always makes me think of something I remember from the early 80’s, when I was 5 or 6.
There was rumors or maybe “reportings” (..the fogginess of youth) of an old conversion van with a tear-drop window on its side that was creeping around the neighborhood, kidnapping little kids. The kids (allegedly) disappeared forever...
Though, there’s a turn this song takes. 2/3 of the way through, it spews stream-of-consciousness Ohgr speak - slipping down the psych slide into a ball pit of hallucinogenic spittle. But with such a hooky melody!
Alas, perhaps I am a voluntary hitchhiker on the lost highway of the white van.