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Текст песни Buck 65 - Untitled *

Buck 65 - Untitled * слова песни

* yes, the actual name of the song is "Untitled"I wondered the fields and listen for the sound of drumsThe colder the ground becomes the closer I get I homeThe planets not fit to roam but with all the chaosBut, when I saw the savages I played the law of averagesAnd when the river splits in half, I start to lose my wits and laughAnd cry at the same time, there`s nothing I can do about itEven though I wouldn`t doubt it, if the winds began to blowAnd carry the sounds of my voice to the lands belowSo I put my hands around my mouth and hollered to the sunken cityThat, wallows in the filth of its own drunken pityAnd wait to see a signal but a signal is never seenEventually fatigue builds inside me exponentially and so I sleepAnd dream that I`m able to FLY they will respect a man with wings!Later I awake, in agony and learn That while I was sleeping the city had burnedShrugging my shoulders, I paused and gathered thoughtsThink twice about staying put, then decide I rather notSo I press on in my agnostic pilgrimageKnowing that I can swim deeper than the grim reaperReady for whatever sea creatures may aboundWhen the water swallows me and not the other way aroundSurvival saw me through the mechanical districtStarvation lays to bay cannibalisticI have to rely on cons and silence and on talking quickDefending myself with nothing but this walking stickI`ve never had friends and no parental guidance I`m wild at heart and weird on top, I`m feared nonstop Even though my rage is worn outMy life`s a book with several pages torn outI just, climb trees and look for rhythm everywhereI used to be the town crier in a city of stone throwersUntil my soul was laid bare and displayed in the pearled squareIgnored, more than a lot, not less, no one understood my thought, processI was gagged and bound over noise complaints But, commanding the resolve that destroys constraintsI, found my escape in a melding of memoriesThe next thing I know, I`m rowing this boat And blowing this note on an old tarnished trumpetEver since then I`ve been wondering lotsWatching the sky and pondering thoughtsStrange angel, music box genieBehind for sometime and now I`m blind in one eyeAnd how this happened exactly will never be knownMy thoughts take the shape of the hang-mans houseNever fails in time traveling salesman visit

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