1. |
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No reverence for most people that I meet
Unaware, mindless sheep
For all the zombies walkin' around in the city
For all the people who wallow in self pity
None for the cops and the career politicians
Who abuse their power and position
None for the preachers and the pushers of faith
Two-faced talkers who sow the seeds of hate
WE HATE... WE HATE YOU!
No reverence for the old guard
Sun has set, but they try so hard
One more tour, gotta make it last
Getting fat off the laurels of the past
No reverence for social validation
None for the people needing constant affirmation
None for the masses tricked and duped into
What to believe, who to trust, what to consume
Such a sick joke
To where we've come
Turn it off, become numb
Build up the walls to block out the sound
SEAL IT OFF!
Along in a place where I can't be found
FADE OUT!
It's getting to the point where I feel like
I'm the last of my kind
Watch me lose my fucking mind
NO REVERENCE!
YOU'RE ALL THE SAME!
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2. |
CASK
01:11
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Not who you think I am
Not who I seem
Illusion of reality
Familiar face
In an unfamiliar place
Soft yellow flicker on the catacomb walls
Stone by stone
Row by row
Sinking in... SINK IN!
Waited so long
Bided my time
Revenge is mine
Can't move your hands or shake my gaze
You still don't understand
The light gets fainter and you fate
becomes clearer
But my reasons and motive is mine to hold
IN PACE REQUIESCAT
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3. |
CONTROL YOUR PEP PEP
03:07
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I'm stuck behind a car moving at a turtle's pace
Can't see a driver's head above the seat,
it's drifting all over the place
Pass the car on my left and I take a look to my right
You've got a thousand-yard stare,
mouth agape, and fully glazed over eyes
Fade the fuck right out / Get off the streets
Give up the keys / Control your Pep Pep
Old man, take a look at my fucking life
and see I'm not a thing like you
Turn in the plates, pump the brakes
You're a danger and a threat to our society
Liver spotted prune and a fatal liability
The fog of age has crept into your mind
and it won't fucking stop
Hearing aids, cataracts, all of your reflexes
are completely shot
Fade the fuck right out of my life / Get off the streets
Give up the keys / Control your Pep Pep
Twilight of your life is here, you've had a good run,
what's fucking left to do?
Turn in the plates, pump the brakes
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The A-Team Boston, Massachusetts
The A-Team was and always will be:
Jon, Jim, Brian, and Q
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