1. |
Story 1
02:46
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[Verse 1]
Godsmack in a straight-jacket
A mac and a knife
A broad's back and it's broad back at the taxi a trife
Motherfucker the life lights motherfucker the lights
Fuck it, it's bright as a motherfucker
He right as a motherfucker
The rain can't stay in those plastic canisters
And the brain pan is pandering
Dang, man, he keeping it tucked (what?)
The nine in the space between his spine and the belt
Buckle, the safety is on, fine, his rocker is offline
He rocking that cap fitted, she sit in his lap kissin'
The driver, he laughs, nobody see him, he gas dippin'
The road slick, ass slippin' and then
He hope they're paying in cash
Sick of these hipster-ass kissers kissing everyone's ass but his
History major, ain't doing shit with it, but what would he do
Teach at the fucking new school of the arts?
For a bunch of hooligan upstarts
Full of themselves, not smart enough to grapple with anything real
[Bridge]
That's when the Jaguar emblem crashed through the driver-side window
And the driver of the Jaguar's head left his body still sitting in the rental
The couple all bloody, tongues punctured by each others teeth, died and didn't let go
The taximan's been bisected by the hood of a car he'd never buy, probably would never drive
[Verse 2]
Randy was the first on the scene, seeing this, couldn't breathe for a hot sec
Just transferred up from the desk, cause he thought he was ready, but he not yet
Hashbrown and eggs on his shirt, and the pant leg, soon as he caught a whiff
Hadn't thrown up more than once since he was a little kid and his brother made him drink a half bottle of
Pine-Sol, spinal everywhere, he wrote the report as soon as he left the scene
Mind all everywhere, he gotta get more booze soon or he gonna scream
Time all funny when his stomach goes skydive, what year was it last?
Hadn't had a drink in about five, but mama said every day was just made for sipping away, he may be slipping
But hey, nobody said they was perfect
[Verse 3]
Randy got somebody by the collar, pistol to the face
Swore he just said something 'bout his mama, say it to my face
Not so funny when I got a chopper all up in your mouth
Where the fucking jokes? You a comedian, man, spit it out
Spit it out
Spit it out
Why you ain't gon' spit it out?
Break a couple teeth and give him something he can spit about
Blood dripping all on his wrist, boy Randy got it cold, right
That Police Academy shit, he don't run from no fights
He don't run from nothin'
Nothing left for discussin'
Scumsuckers all over drinkin', smokin', yellin' and cussin'
Last week got a call 'bout some drug dealer stabbing his cousin
These cats is animals, they should be in a zoo or somethin'
And he protect and serve
These bitches got some nerve
Trying not to serve him when he keep killers off of they curbs
Killers off of they streets
These killers off of they minds
So they can go to sleep at night and think that everything's fine
He had a glass of wine to calm him down, that was a'ight
Was talking to this sexy girl, half black and half white
He asked her what she wanted, ordered up another pint
When they told him he was cut off and all Randy saw was lights
And Randy starts to cry
He can't figure out why
He told his sister walk, unless she stop kissing that guy
She said "You ain't my dad!"
He said "Bitch, catch a cab."
And that's the last discussion she and Randy ever had
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2. |
Story 2
02:17
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[Verse]
Godsmack is how the wind feels
On the face of Mike Winfield
On his way home from the bar where he works
Nights—the worst nights, don't nobody tip right
And between the marriage offers and the fist fights
And if another motherfucker touch his wrist
Trying to pull him in to whisper
He ain't making it to midnight
Don't they know he got a lighter in his pocket
A matchbook in his sock
And a block full of charred skeletons
Closeted, begging to get out
He paused cause he's scared of airing out the thoughts
He can taste it in his mouth, the sulfur and bitter carbon
Hearing all the burning bodies shout but no
That was a full lifetime ago and nobody ever has to know
He has never told, well except Ronald
But that don't count, he was sweet and exactly
What he needed him to be at the time
Wine and candlelight and nice texts at lunchtime
Why had he not called Ron back?
Guess there just wasn't a spark, ha!
No, no, musn't joke about these things
Wouldn't want to disappoint Doc Clark
So many hours on the couch
So many buried memories that take
So many tears to get them out
Water hadn't never been a friend
Hold up—where had he seen that car before?
Blue Acura, dent on the left rear fender
Back again the sense of déjà vu
Strange things you
Never shake when you wake up in recovery
But suddenly noticing ash is covering his head
'Cause it's raining from the sky
Dials home on his cell phone and gets no reply
What the fuck?
Where is the babysitter that he overpays?
Body takes over and brain becomes disengaged
Michael is running, his house is three blocks away
Adrenaline compensating for change in age
Since the last time that he ran it, god dammit
Mike knows he gotta get home fast as he can
Looks up in the sky, glow's familiar
Knows those families died with similar
Awnings and on and on he keeps going
Hits the corner just as he hears the explosion
Screams come from the house, "Did you get them out?"
Mike asking the crowd that has gathered 'round
Tears running down his face
There's that familiar taste
He wishes it would take him to another place
Son and his baby girl in his home and he can't believe
That it's gone in a cloud of smoke
And he's choking and running forward
And hoping against hope that he might find them alive and well
But he knows the results too well
And he knows that he fooled himself
Then he keeps walking towards the house
Rather what house is still left
No intention of stopping, letting the smoke take his breath
Some strong arm knocks him aside
Mike falls to the ground and cries
Why won't you just let me die?
Why won't you just let me die?
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e_Glyde The Bahamas
A Bahamian born, multi-talented artist.
e_Glyde makes music for the same reason she lives for,
herself; which leads to many ideas clobbered together as if picked from a sorting hat and glued together with drums inspired by the black music she's heard throughout her life.
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