All Will Be Fine
Thats the video done for our song "All Will Be Fine"
All Will Be Fine
All will be fine as long as you're mine
no one could say theres other ways
while you're here I'll be sincere
as long as you say you wont go away.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Some People Don't Dance Cause They Just Got No Feet
Old blues in reflecting mode mocked all sympathy for clocks
have sang “you better get a new trade, you're irrelevant to the revolt”
Spray cans on the loose with microphones on their debts
have tried their best to harmonize with those notes that work from bed
Its on me cause I chose to believe 'potential' was my home
Now death may find me one day with not even clothes on my bones
I 'm broke as the brokest man you've ever met
Your quarter could be my quarter could be the way to get fed
Your nickel could be my nickel could be the way to get fed
Your penny could be my penny could be the way to get fed
Some people don't dance cause they just got no feet
Others don't dance cause they don't know how to live
have sang “you better get a new trade, you're irrelevant to the revolt”
Spray cans on the loose with microphones on their debts
have tried their best to harmonize with those notes that work from bed
Its on me cause I chose to believe 'potential' was my home
Now death may find me one day with not even clothes on my bones
I 'm broke as the brokest man you've ever met
Your quarter could be my quarter could be the way to get fed
Your nickel could be my nickel could be the way to get fed
Your penny could be my penny could be the way to get fed
Some people don't dance cause they just got no feet
Others don't dance cause they don't know how to live
The Day I Lost You In The Crowd
On the first Willie-Burg stop I was either there or nowhere
With a cliche half held cigarette, one among poets
fake tourist poets, broken glass spread over the current,
into the current, one and the co-rent.
Sirens were heard to say “can't intimidate whats not sober”
I was there on my 5th straight day with my promise to soon recover
with the cure one discovers, when what was good is done
on to another, on to another.
Fashion was art and art was ripe, ripe for the fucking
Everyone is in demand, and it has began, on moves in the market
with bonds in perverted pockets, novelty ash treys
sold at the boarders, sold at my corner.
That was the day I lost you in the crowd
The day I lost you in the crowd.
I might had seen you grab a cab,
The day I lost you in the crowd.
With a cliche half held cigarette, one among poets
fake tourist poets, broken glass spread over the current,
into the current, one and the co-rent.
Sirens were heard to say “can't intimidate whats not sober”
I was there on my 5th straight day with my promise to soon recover
with the cure one discovers, when what was good is done
on to another, on to another.
Fashion was art and art was ripe, ripe for the fucking
Everyone is in demand, and it has began, on moves in the market
with bonds in perverted pockets, novelty ash treys
sold at the boarders, sold at my corner.
That was the day I lost you in the crowd
The day I lost you in the crowd.
I might had seen you grab a cab,
The day I lost you in the crowd.
A Share of the Profits
Holidays in Japan and a funeral by a sty
ashy throats and a Buddhist phone were married by the judge
Who wore no robe in his court he was a chubby healthy loan
from the state to the press to ignore the cabaret
Where wallets lost some fat in an orgy camouflaged
in cultured hives, cultured tax, the cult that grins when you spy
Moderate charlatans are the heroes with no ties
to the left nor the right just the navel in loose guns
Clandestine union cells kept the hemorrhage from growing frail
bleed to feed the treaty's whip will collect via mail
endorsed breaths do not protect the wasting of your head
The side effects don't relate to apathy in regret
Atoms were born to lease whatever matter drips
Into books that fool the loons with symptoms of solitude
A quarantine up the sleeve saved for the first hint
Of you and me running free like hypochondriacs that have deceased
But is you who calls for me always you who calls for me
Transcendental human piss, you call for me
ashy throats and a Buddhist phone were married by the judge
Who wore no robe in his court he was a chubby healthy loan
from the state to the press to ignore the cabaret
Where wallets lost some fat in an orgy camouflaged
in cultured hives, cultured tax, the cult that grins when you spy
Moderate charlatans are the heroes with no ties
to the left nor the right just the navel in loose guns
Clandestine union cells kept the hemorrhage from growing frail
bleed to feed the treaty's whip will collect via mail
endorsed breaths do not protect the wasting of your head
The side effects don't relate to apathy in regret
Atoms were born to lease whatever matter drips
Into books that fool the loons with symptoms of solitude
A quarantine up the sleeve saved for the first hint
Of you and me running free like hypochondriacs that have deceased
But is you who calls for me always you who calls for me
Transcendental human piss, you call for me
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