Look ma I'm lost in a perpetual present,
Words as useless as seatbelts on airplanes,
Can't learn notes, but I'm drawn to misery,
Used to yearn for peace, but despise simplicity,
Chop off the old songs and pretend to be,
The man I imagine myself in this society,
The outskirts is all I can afford,
Cuz I'm as rich as far as can exploit myself,
And poor everytime I run out of money,
Today less distance to age old thirty,
Apocalypsis, when my body gives up,
Such is life it ends with my head on display,
Some poems read,
Maybe surviving members of Anticon will come there and play for free,
These days I can't face myself with out my lady,
If I had a soul, she would be my soulmate,
I was murdered by numbers saved by faces,
Stored in a freezer till the drought became inclusive,
In ancient California, I loved the food,
The "vote no" bumperstickers, false utopias in Northen Europe,
Watch the facists march quicker these days,
And drag us into permanent alienation.
You who act as apologists for the great decay,
Will be the first to see why it's no good to sing for the emperor. And his holy guard.
Indeed you are more famous then I,
More "sucessful" then I,
Perpetuate more stereotypes then I,
And we were never really that close,
But when I see you in hell, you'll be feeding me grapes,
I know you wanna stand and say your entire persona is false as any jefferson speech,
We are all at war, most in denial, just want comfort.
Speak no common good, make money, make a capitalist holiday permanent.

I see the world as it invented us,
Millions of stars stirring perfect and pointless,
Be it the roots in my teeth,
Us walking dead plants seek cover;
For Big Bangs to black holes,
Only techniques of opression have been refined.
"Hide under this blade, or under the sky.
Like in the movies, 'cept with no ending..."

How do I look?

I ain't got even, I ain't even close,
I've bore the cross, paid the cost,
Now it's time to stop paying Gods chosen frozen children,
Selling weapon's named after Indians to the Israelis,
My Russian homies in Tel Aviv are trapped.
Finish Hitler's work, or you can go to jail.
The victims of genocide recreate apartheid,
I say love thy neighbors or go back to Poland.
Back in Portland, the fisherman are starving,
Back in Beograd they've made something out of sanctions,
And people like me just wanna eat and laugh,
It's the way I live my life and I just keep going back,
To an idiot's paradise, the people think I'm crazy.
I'd sign up for revolution but my people are to lazy.
And I don't want to be the only one to die with no where left to go,
So fuck the world in the only language I know...

Everything but the air is against me,
It'll take a million umbilical cords to reach me,
I need a little space like 50000 stars.

It's official, I'm an official of the vatican army, reserve.

Lyrics submitted by Malhavic

Drive By Detournment song meanings
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    General CommentThis is easily my favorite Sole song, and I think the meaning is pretty straight forward, although the "Hide Under This blade..." part is a call back to Sole's appearance on cLOUDEAD's "I Promise To Never Get Paint On My Glasses Again (Side 1)" and the last line is actually from a Reaching Quiet song, I can't remember which one right now...
    Malhavicon February 05, 2010   Link

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