I take this to the space ships
To watch grey matter incinerate through my grey lips
Riding on the head of a nebula in a chariot
Watch the whole universe start through a great tense
Time and space are nothing but monkeys at a typewriter
Scribbling down thoughts by a lamplight with a vampire
What was what of the cosmos is long gone
And will never be replaced by the pace of a lost god
Cancer cells emit from factories a slave to work
Nine thousand lights away from here are years that we will never know
Colour variation in a spectrum where light fades to dust
Musical frequencies combust till we rust a planets core
Now should the angles save our souls from lucifer
Or them who own?
The home that we still know
The only adventure left is to destroy whats left
In a society that hates adventure as much as it hates itself
Where wealth poverty and monarchy are intertwined
Combined by the past that should of been left behind
But the vines find paths to climb
And roots strangle the sides
A parasite
Living on the back of a angel
To parachute through the skye
An transcend to ones heaven
MY GOD IS NOT YOUR GOD
So dont speak to me a weaker speech thats cheep to try believe
This little piece of me is like a piece of you
All i try do is speak the truth
Here’s a real gooddea lets sell guns to the ‘infidel’
Then send in ‘splinter cell’ with all his personal
Create carnage
While the path we walk is more than asking for a cause of disaster
But all we hear is the applause and laughter of cameron and obama
But these are puppets any
Best start severing string
Till were ahead of the king
And god is smiling again
Interplanetary madness
Spans 8000 years of prophecy
And the cost to speak has taught the weak there lost within the stones and Weeds….
If you think you are you are not a solution only the back hatched crab on The back of a tumor asking for the room to manoeuvre
Fending from all follicles and grim thoughts
Pin point plasma projection from laser guns
Tazer sun the man that run now the only place he’s going is a coffin son
Now your coughing up the smog from the rotten lungs
screaming to the sky asking what the fuck become of us.
– Chris Cohen-
IAMFIEND
http://www.soundcloud.com/mr-fiend-1
iamfiend.wordpress.com
The start 