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This is pure progressive rock. The songs are very long, very high energy with metal influences but very unstructured with many tempo changes and time signature
Song Info
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.2 MB • 320 kbps • 5:42
Story behind the song
Originally written and Recorded in 1995, but re-recorded in October 2001 with new vocals and guitars, and remixed in February 2007.
The lyrics revolve around the concept of some of the subtleties of political correctness. The story is about a conservative polical activist woman who discovers she has ALS. Because of this, she gets coerced into a plot to attempt to become the lover of a very liberal president to eventually try to assasinate him, but soon discovers that she falls in love with him and just wants to pursue a simpler non-political agenda of sorts. In the meantime, unknown to her, the organization behind the plot actually never intended for her to go through with it, actually just wanted to frame someone for the killing of his leading opponent. The song is from the woman's internal perspective.
Lyrics
His institutions are his social disease
Its someones revolution to bear
Im not political, I have to pretend to be
His fate conditional
I wait, hide away
Swaying under a sheltered moon-crime
My sins float in the wind
Tripping the days asunder
The telling secrets of his passive indiscretion
Is carrying sequences I will not understand
And theres a reason that I sought these possibilities
Such subtle differences
A bullet-ride
I set aside an incidental suicide
Black jack, Kerouac, put it in a pill
Like a god-punk, pump it up, going for the kill
Its a show scheme, bad dream, never will pretend
In a rainbow rideup, cut him in and out (my friend)
Im artificially a social elite
It tastes like candy water to me
Faulty condition like a radical waste
Becoming my philosophies
I sing violins
Dancing the play the words I wonder
We pray, sailing away
Streaking the spell Im under
And theres a reason that I found this inability
I drape an invitation, cautiously extends
His superstition signs a perfect opportunity
My intuitioning, internal enemy unfolds
I know it grows, I know
Black jack, Kerouac, put it on a shelf
Like a god-punk, suck it up, quantify yourself
Its a mad scheme, last dream, never to pretend
In a rainbow ride-in, cut him up and down (my friend)
(Time is the crucial element in this masquerade. Remember)
Days come rain falls down
(We understand the logic of your direction. Remember.....)
I sense something is wrong
Where has the army of lawmakers gone?
I felt someones release
Look away, run away, run away
Designate is something I couldn't do
Because I never knew exactly what's the plan (Dont even think about it)
Its our government, its what we want it to be
But there are incidents that may reflect exceptions to it......
Responsibility is something you shouldn't fake
(I cant recall)
An ammunition representing our response
(I dont recall this intercession)
'Cause Its our government, not just a phony excuse
My inhibition in reality a state of (in)fatuation
Growing critically beyond this insincerity
I dance away
Reflecting ceremonies cradling its bridal stations
We played the island raining ocean-summer sand
While I regenerate Im fostering its escalation
Waiting out the windstorm
I stood ambiguously sighting a friend
It smells like I might be a pawn
Now Im not stupid but I have to pretend
To be the one to take the fall
My grave eating me away
Dying under a fractured sunrise
His faith leading me astray
Helping me aim the gunsight
Black jack, Kerouac, put her in a cell
Like a god-punk, f*** it up, sanctify yourselves
Its a mad scheme, last dream, never to pretend
In our rainbow rideup, cut me inside-out
My Friend.........My Friend........My Friend..........Oh, My Friend
