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Coalesce




Альбом Coalesce


Functioning On Impatience (1998)
1998
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Recurring Ache Of Monotony Still Running
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. . .


what more do you want from me?
some sort of apology?
well I promise that forgiveness is the most you'll get.
and what I demand of you is to put up or shut up.
so make your decision,
but remember-you can't kill us all.
I know you don't know what you say
but I don't feel any safer from you.
hate is too easy and we'll both find a way to be right.
no matter how far a stretch.
and even now i've all but forgotten what we're fighting for.
to end something or to begin it?
I don't even know why I care to continue.
old habits die hard I guess. but we don't.
and the threats are still made.
i'll kill you. even though turning away seems safer.
I want to be in the middle.
I want to go for the jugular. but I don't remember why.
was it to start something or to end it?
I know why I continue. I do it all for them.
for her I can be an influence and for them a backbone.
to end the old and begin a new age of compromise and clear thinking.

. . .

Recurring Ache Of Monotony Still Running

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. . .


"i run with the pack, with every freedom.
i am god, selfishness embodied strong enough to build this mountain.
a barrier you're cowardly to call by it's proper name."
i am a man who screams aloud as for i am nothing,
humility exercised honest enough to humble any man who seeks peace.
and i call it by its name.
"jealousy" it turns the kindest of men green with rage and eats them from inside.
i've climbed your mountain
and found it to be no more than a mole hill compared to the hate you harbor for christ.
i'd call it by it's name if it had one.
rebellion against faith based on it's failed followers.
a rotting fool tied upon our necks that carry the blood of the crusades
and the misunderstanding of homosexuality.
ammo, nothing but. a different time
and a different language for a different people.
where morals were a foundation and not controversial.
i am a man who's screamed for far too long
and near the end of his rope.

. . .


farewell friend until tomorrow.
where you are still nitpicking our diets and names.
the potential is still there yet it's somehow unexpected.
i'll show you courage if you show me responsibility.
something lost long ago in trying to please everyone.
in pleasing ourselves.
if it feels good it must be right. right?
so what's a child?
a foetus or kink in sexual revolution and what am i?
a threat, a kink in political consistency.
more name games and more personal choice.
so where's mine?
or are you to deal me such luxuries.
call me what i am and mean every word.
be prepared to take yours.
you see you're not alone.
i'll show you responsibility if you show me reasoning.
something you never possessed.
you always coveted anger and vengeance.
but for what?
one less bite, one less burden.
i'm sick of being the bastard.
keep your fight and know i'll keep mine.

. . .


He took on a shade of green long ago.
and many a fool along the way have been lost to this.
i know you can't afford to be wrong. and we can't either.
we want it back. i can't afford to lose you. but that's not what this is about.
if love ever had a second name it's attachment.
and if you had an ounce of common sense you would be witness to this.
but try your best not to be of this world.
fly with the rest of your glassy eyed angels.
straight to heaven gate
and don't forget your spare change to horde and render useless.
gold was always more valuable than bread in the stomachs of the starving.
and you dare say i'm godless (filthy) less evolved,
sure to be stuck in my rut.
well i say you're gutless. the first in line to be our rip off artist.
the first to change your name to push more product.
we finally got it back from the clutches of absurdity.
and our bond is measured by nothing.
no books, no rounds, no quotas,
and certainly not by how many units sold.
i tell you krishna's dead to me along with my love for extremes.
i tell you krishna's dead! so tell me to go to hell for all i care.
life without love is no different.
i've been there and it offered no hope.
dead is dead.

. . .


i'm listening but i can't believe the arrogance i'm constantly bombarded with.
if i were a lazy man i could swallow the debt you put us in.
but now i fear that maybe i can't roll with these punches.
i don't want to be that man.
independence is all me have but that's now becoming a joke by your actions.
i don't want to be that man who let it all go
and found out how sweet revenge really is.
so sweet it consumed me and pushed me toward crime.
oh only if you put in the hours i have to make this work.
put in the time i think you want me to beg for what i work so hard for.
simple independence.
all i ever wanted was for everyone to be content and safe.
i won't be that man.

. . .


if you leave me to be the outsider looking in then i am finally home.
i have a name and it isn't guilt. that never moved me an inch.
if common sense and common decency aren't enough
then leave me behind and consider yourself weeded out.
if you have the taste for guilt and feed on lies then leave me behind
and consider me sold out.
and this sell out will keep screaming with the voice to push you to violence.
every word proof you can't handle any different.
every blow proof that you have no intentions of equality.
if you make decisions color-based
and call that power then leave me behind
and i won't say a word.
i'll just wait until you kill yourselves over nothing but flesh one thing's sure to die.
as political trends keep coming, demanding godlessness.
i'll just continue forward, my only intention all along.
so look somewhere else for revolution.
my disgust for details is nothing revolutionary.

. . .


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