Buck 65 (Stinkin' Rich)

Buck 65 (Stinkin' Rich) - Untitled songtekst

Je score:

I wondered the fields and listen for the sound of drums

The colder the ground becomes the closer I get I home

The planets not fit to roam but with all the chaos

But, when I saw the savages I played the law of averages

And when the river splits in half, I start to lose my wits and laugh

And cry at the same time, there's nothing I can do about it

Even though I wouldn't doubt it, if the winds began to blow

And carry the sounds of my voice to the lands below

So I put my hands around my mouth and hollered to the sunken city

That, wallows in the filth of its own drunken pity

And wait to see a signal but a signal is never seen

Eventually fatigue builds inside me exponentially and so I sleep

And 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 burned

Shrugging my shoulders, I paused and gathered thoughts

Think twice about staying put, then decide I rather not

So I press on in my agnostic pilgrimage

Knowing that I can swim deeper than the grim reaper

Ready for whatever sea creatures may abound

When the water swallows me and not the other way around

Survival saw me through the mechanical district

Starvation lays to bay cannibalistic

I have to rely on cons and silence and on talking quick

Defending myself with nothing but this walking stick

I'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 out

My life's a book with several pages torn out

I just, climb trees and look for rhythm everywhere



I used to be the town crier in a city of stone throwers

Until my soul was laid bare and displayed in the pearled square

Ignored, more than a lot, not less, no one understood my thought, process

I was gagged and bound over noise complaints 

But, commanding the resolve that destroys constraints

I, found my escape in a melding of memories

The next thing I know, I'm rowing this boat 

And blowing this note on an old tarnished trumpet



Ever since then I've been wondering lots

Watching the sky and pondering thoughts

Strange angel, music box genie

Behind for sometime and now I'm blind in one eye

And how this happened exactly will never be known



My thoughts take the shape of the hang-mans house

Never fails in time traveling salesman visit
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Taal: Engels

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