Monday 18 October 2010 photo 5/5
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läs den här texten, Corey Taylor är fan klok. :)
The girls on the streets all look sad in this gold encrusted little town..
Why is that?
Isn't this the town of dreams?...
Yeah... But it comes with a price.
It's a town that never does anything, and yet takes all the credit...
A place that promises so much,
But never has a thing to say,
Or a care in the world..
There is no memory here.
No dream for itself but the dreams of others.
And all over the world you talk of a place you've only seen in re-runs..
Immortalized for it's vice, and deified for it's carnage.
There's money in the air there..
All you have to do is reach up and grab it...
In basements, garages, parking lots, empty lots, schoolyards, town cars, backrooms and more,
Diamonds are fashioned from expectations and fortified on a steady diet,
Of simple lives, and red carpets.
The ejaculating Zeitgeist in night vision..
Culture is a punch line and emotion is blood in the water..
The sharks here play games you can't fathom.
But you flock here anyway;
On college money and credit cards,
Spend a week bull shitting yourself that it was all true,
All of it.
Just to watch in horror as it all falls to pieces under the gravity of reality..
The starry eyes fade as it dawns on you.
Nothing is guaranteed.
You are a part of the great divide,
The chosen, or the frozen.
Now your miles away without a net,
Your college money's a collage of debt,
And your credit cards are all snapped in fucking half.
Time to wander a landscape bereft of mercy.
This is now the back lot of your failed movie,
A waking dream re-written without your permission.
The real luster, the soft focus, the...
Soap opera vision is just the hindsight of a world who's been lied to.
Of sad surfs, and untouchable lords.
You took a chance didn't you?...
But chance didn't have a par for you this time around, maybe next life.
And you can't even walk home..
The girls on the streets all look sad in this cardboard cut-out little town...
Huh. No wonder.
That's the only thing here that's real.
The gold is for fools,
And paradise is lost, but the hungry have never bothered with the cost.
Day by day, they fall away like rose petals..Like ink that won't dry or fade.
It just runs wild down cracks and crevices, grooves and folds..
So I hope someone saves you before you get cold.
I really do.
Because the girls are all sad in this little black book...
If you don't believe me, take a closer look.
If you can.All Spoken, Except When Noted Otherwise]
What a skeletal wreck of a man this is
Translucent flesh and feeble bones
The kind of temple where the whores and villians try to tempt the holistic tones
Running rampant with free thought to free form the free and clear
And the matters at hand are shelled out like lint at a laundromat to sift and focus on the bigger, better, NOW
We all have a little sin that needs venting, virtues for the rending and laws and systems and stems ripped from the branches of office do you know what your post entails?
Do you serve a purpose or purposely serve?
Wind down inside your adivistic allure, the value of a summer spent and a winter earned
For the rest of us there is always sunday
The day of the week that reeks of rest but all we do is catch our breath so we can wade naked into the bloody pool and place our hand on the big black book
To watch the knives zigzag between our aching fingers
A vacation is a countdown
T minus your life and counting
Time to drag your tongue across the sugar cube and hope you get a taste
WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR?
I could go on and on but let's move on shall we?
Say, you're me and I'm you and they all watch the things we do and like a smack of spite they threw me down the stairs haven't felt like this in years the great magnet of malicious magnanimous refuse
Let me go and plunge me into the dead spot again
That's where you go when theres no one else around it's just you and there was never anyone to begin with now was there?
Sanctimonious pretentious dastardly bastards with their thumb on the pulse and a finger on the trigger
CLASSIFIED MY ASS THAT'S A FUCKING SECRET AND YOU KNOW IT!
Government is another way to say better, than, you!
It's like ice but no pick a murder charge that won't stick its like a whole other world where you can smell the food
But you can't touch the silverware
What luck!
Facism you can vote for
Isn't that sweet
And were all gonna die someday 'cause that's the american way and I've drunk too much and said too little when you're gaffer taped in the middle say a prayer save face get yourself together and FUCK YOU!
I'm sorry I could go on and on but its time to move on so
Remember, your a wreck an accident
Forget the freak your just nature
Keep the gun oiled and the temple clean
Shit, snort and blaspheme let the heads cool and the engine run because in the end everything we do, is just everything we've done.
Annons