- The Generation Of Danger

Artist:
Release: The Generation Of Danger


1. Telescope

I try to learn when I sprout a life out from nothing
I view it in a brand new frame
I put all of my faith in this
-All of my faith in this
If I goof up again,
What can I make from the mess?
Say adéu!
Fuck that coulda, woulda, shoulda shit

Thus, your head spits pain, and the bullet rampages
-The generation of danger
You were da’ one who overlook’ da’ rule book
Ya’ whole crew’ shook
I’m the target of anger
Thus, your head spits pain, and the bullet rampages
-The generation of danger
Thus, your head spits pain
Do you feel d-disdain for me?
Can’t get away from me, motherfucker!

This ain’t the time to hide your shame
You’re in the process—two more hearts to go
Preacher decided he’s done being quiet
The people love violence
It’s human nature—watch ‘em take it and take it again
And seventy-seven attempts later,
There’s a bad cop who turns the cheek
-He likes to watch ‘em squirm around on the pavement
That’s the delusion of safety
You proudly carried the torch,
But the porch had been doused with kerosene
Suddenly, you can’t face me
Suddenly, it seems you can’t walk at all…
Because I changed that!
Fuck your coulda, woulda, shoulda shit!

Thus, your head spits pain, and the bullet rampages
-The generation of danger
You were da’ one who overlook’ da ‘rule book
Ya’ whole crew’ shook
I’m the target of anger
Thus, your head spits pain, and the bullet rampages
-The generation of danger
Thus, your head spits pain
Do you feel d-disdain for me?
Can’t get away from me!

I know the rich men park somewhere in Bruges,
Then the road winds further and further
Into the fog—into the maze,
Until they’re so caught up in haze
They couldn’t see me ‘til I swept their fucking legs

I peel out like a shadow,
Follow them straight into the maze
They can’t hear me when I sneak up from behind
And put chemicals in their brain

I know the rich men park somewhere in Bruges,
Then the road winds further and further
Into the fog—into the maze
Until they’re so caught up in haze
They couldn’t see me ‘til I swept their fucking legs

2. The Impressionist

O’ I wish I knew you; you were already dead!
And if I could’ve, know I surely would’ve
-Already dead
Disasters will blow through a second time
Just to make it certain no one somehow dropped behind
And you will form yourself around me
Life falls right into groove
Paint it red
-A child’s tracing of the shape that was once you

I left my honor at the desk,
Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy
I want no reward; I’ve lost interest in that crowd
It’s so much easier to function with no guise of safety
If I’m so cruel, invite your god to strike me down

Retract, withdraw, collect, push out, reform
-The process of creation from my own perspective
And it’s hard to make connections
When the flesh gets so decrepit
Still, regret is for the lonely man
I pride myself in all I have done
Look how they formed themselves around me!
Life falls right into groove
Paint it red
-A child’s tracing of the shape that was once you
I cut the whole and sculpt it into something new
And pure—relaxed—your worthless blood made true
That demands attention!

I’ll make it happen ‘cause I’m better than you
You’re disappointed, but it’s only ‘cause I’m better than you
I suffered, and it made me so much better than you
Now, it’s your turn to weep, and it’s my turn to rule
Rip you in half because I’m better than you
I can build you into greatness or be better than you
I’ll eat your dreams just to see what makes me better than you
Now, it’s your turn to weep, and it’s my turn to rule
I’m freaking out because I’m better than you!
You’re disappointed that I’m better than you!
I’m only someone ‘cause I’m better than you!
I’ll make it happen ‘cause I’m better

I left my honor at the desk,
Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy
I want no reward; I’ve lost interest in that crowd
It’s so much easier to function with no guise of safety
If I’m so cruel, invite your god to strike me down

I’ll make it happen
No in-betweens
You’re picture-perfect!

I left my honor at the desk,
Somewhere in Bruges or Quincy
I want no reward; I’ve lost interest in that crowd
It’s so much easier to function with no guise of safety
If I’m so cruel, invite your god to strike me down

Retract, withdraw, reform me into something new
And pure—relaxed—my worthless blood made true!
He’ll make it happen if he’s better than me
Now that would demand attention!

3. Shaken (not stirred)

Shit!
Oh, you bow to no one?
I wouldn’t say that…
I’d only just made myself so comfortable
It seems my plan was full of holes
I dared to walk the blurring line
I dared to think, o’ it’s all so romantic!
Get dunked into the bowl
I couldn’t reach into your soul

Misfortune rang,
But I couldn’t fucking get it
I couldn’t pick up the phone, man!
I’m stupefied
I still don’t fucking get it!
It’s got me so surprised!

When I pull it all apart,
It gets hard to keep on believing in you…

I dared to walk the blurring line
-Another day, another bloated, black disaster
What will you find down in that hole?
-Suck in the fluid as your lungs are turned to gills
It never hurts to tread on the side of caution,
So I flipped your spine into a fin
And wrapped it up in skin
And just called it win
To make up for all the other losses you were a part of

When I pull it all apart,
It gets hard to keep on believing in you
What’s it like in the drain?
Swim away, go be my muse
Believe me, I know!
What’s it like in the drain?

Misfortune rang,
But I couldn’t fucking get it
I couldn’t pick up the phone, man!
I’m stupefied
I still don’t fucking get it!
It’s got me so surprised!

I dare to say I walked the blurring line
Your scales, they matched the sky,
But they won’t be there tomorrow,
And I don’t wanna’ see mistakes,
So you’ll go down alone
I won’t find no’ relief
I’ll just have regrets that you couldn’t be changed
You can’t be changed

When I pull it all apart,
It gets hard to keep on believing in you
What’s it like in the drain?
Swim away, go be my muse
Believe me, I know!
What’s it like in the drain?

I took the passport to nowhere
I took the passport to nowhere