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Geometrik's "Upon A Midnight Stone"- OUT NOW!!
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Song Info
Genre
Charts
#145,511 today
Peak #420
#90,703 in subgenre
Peak #234
Author
Geometrik
Rights
Copyright 2004
Uploaded
November 19, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
He dunks his head into the dirt
because he thinks signs are worthless
scrounging for earthworms while scaling foliage curtains
what lurks beneath the surface-
worse than a native son’s furnace
he’d burn this magnesium sheet of words
to blind the sheep herders
local murders
don’t circulate his bloodstream
his fractured heart is closed to most of those
closest to his dying dreams
spying seems
to keep his fading senses keen
but its all a hologram
permeating a broken smokescreen
folks scream
cus he freed some elvish people
guardian of the keyhole
that leads to ordinary beings appearing evil
the forest floor became his easel
where he builds little houses out of stone and injured eagles
making meals
his homely wife cuts and peels
layers off an onion
that has collection plate appeal
stealing holy water
dipping into the church sink
replacing it with dirt
from the landfill where his head sinks
carving a throne
just a stones throws away
from the grave we tell our tales
even to the present day
carving a throne
just a stones throws away
from the grave we shout our tales
resonating in the present day
nothing could have prepared me
for the day I launched this planet
sandstorms and typhoons
block their senses to make it look candid
I whiz electric currents through the soft spot
you’re branded!
I know what goes well with life
how bout a little famish
standing on a mountain
the fountain of youth seekers
are clawing their way from the depths
through busted tv speakers
misleading teachers
cop a vision while they’re babysitting
don’t bother to grab that evil book
you know it’s been written
stray inhabitants
stay at the vatican
outlasting dads that had to spend
their lives whipping insubordinate kids with pheasant pens
better ends
can be gathered through my brethren
but instead I choose to keep my pets
dressed till death in judgement
bludgeon their psyche
but still they cite me
as the soul source
for their course
fighting those who’d like to spite me
in a weird way
I envy every bastard screaming “bite me!”
But to hell with that
next time I’ll send them in riding on Pisces
I wasn’t the kind of man you could afford to fuck with
I kicked buckets of dumb luck
and struck
50 million forest fairies with a hex
you could have been next
perched upon my chopping block
my property was forged from solid rock
and mirrored the brick walls I erected
to stop the onslaught
to be perfectly honest
my mind was an abyss
deep as the loch ness
Madonna gasped for breath
from the depths of my breast pocket
but I wasn’t dying yet
I didn’t plan to go
until I’d opened all the portals
even if it meant I had to go back
and dwell amongst the mortals
don’t expect me to be cordial
it ain’t my thing
I’d rather bury the rest of my body
in the landfill where my head sinks
she dunks her head into the dirt
cus she knows signs are worthless
scrounging for new terms
while growing foliage curtains
what lurks beneath the surface
is hidden underneath a wrinkled turban
she’d burn this magnesium sheet of words
to kill the sheep herders
local murders
echo through her body cavity
her fractured sternum’s open to most of those
furthest from her living dreams
splitting seams
she keeps her starving senses keen
but its all a hologram
permeating a broken smokescreen
folks scream
cus she freed some elvish people
guardian of the keyhole
that leads to ordinary demons appearing feeble
the forest floor became her easel
where she breaks little houses made of stone and injures eagles
making deals
her homely spouse cuts and peels
layers off a legend
that has mass appeal
stealing holy water
dipping into the church sink
replacing it with dirt
from the landfill where her head sinks
carving a throne
just a stones throws away
from the grave we tell our tales
even to the present day
carving a throne
just a stones throws away
from the grave we shout
