Day Grows Old

Build up your saliva and get ready to kill the fire

Spit in the face of figure heads, give 'em a taste of the shit I said

Build a place for children to escape

The inbred human race of living deadbeat

Dads milking the motherless childcare system

Let the sleepers have another nightmare from Christian conservatives

They don't fight fair and any religion would murder kids

If they don't quite care about the condition

Of the prison where we're serving bids

Once I escape my skin cell I won't be banging on the bars of soap

That I dropped into my living hell

The seemingly indestructible knuckles of my fists are clean

Keeping eyes wide open and bulging out like Mr. Bean

Misdemeanors made to look like felonies, the prison queen

Is existing in his own filth and feeling no guilt it seems

It's a dream with cheetah speed we're chasing after

Some are running quick

Track teams want me to lead but face the fact

Y'all can't catch up to it, pace at your own pace on this race track

You'll eventually get lapped on your last leg while stretching my aggression is just a lack of serotonin

Plug the jack of your telephone in to the wall

So I can call your bluff just to say what's up, how ya doin'

Now I've ruined the beautiful sound of silence

Won't get quiet until the voices in my head come down with laryngitis

Talking, talking, talking, talking, so much to say, so little sense to make

Bedposts get chopped off once innocence gets raped

Close the curtains and drapes, pull down the blinds

Cover your ears, block your nose and mouth, shut your eyes

There's a black box in my head which is actually read

When I crash and burn it keeps a record of every last word I said

It goes "one" for the finger, fuck, two for the peace sign

3 strikes, you're out, Casey's at bat with unloaded guns in his mouth

As the day grows old

We pave this road

When we take control

We will save your soul

And it burns just like that famous ring of fire

Sing to inspire, try to loosen up the dirt that clings to the tires

Establish some traction, lingering behind the curtain of satisfaction

I'm certain of nothing, Mr. Knew it all

Late for my disorientation, fate glued to the wall

The pain felt could make the brain melt

Heard the shackles on the ankles, mistook the sound as slay bells

Remember that song called big pimpin'?

It made me want to dance around but I had no type of rhythm

Then I thought I should write a song called sick pimpin'

'Cause I know a lot of beautiful psycho inspiteful women

Now I'm that cat that tiptoes on this pads

With the gauze on track and so as not to cause damage

Hello, Miss Management, time decision making process

Trying to catch the breath I couldn't find 'til I lost it

Stand upon a rock I couldn't climb if I tried

With a fist full of issues, a bag full of pride

Well alright, I'ma write all the problems on the board

If anyone can answer 'em, I'll let them drive my Ford

I quit searching for the truth 'cause the truth can change

It all depends on how the furniture's arranged

If you don't take a moment to sit in the chair

Then there wasn't any point of ever puttin' it here

And I'm lovin' every minute as the day gets vivid

While I'm twistin' up the lyrics of existence

And it goes, one for the wife and two for the house

Three strikes, you're out

Now please remove my life from your mouth

As the day grows old

We pave this road

When we take control

We will save your soul