NEW LYRICS – “TORTURE DEN”
Hey guys, Zeke here. Check out these lyrics I wrote this afternoon for our new track “Torture Den”:
So innocence is lost again,
You’re looking for a solo friend
And every supposition’s just another question that depends
On an answer never coming, hounded through the streets your running
All your shoes are wearing thin on the toe
Yeah I’ve got guitar strings that are gonna move you in a second
And as I lay it down it ain’t the finger that will beckon
Just the microphone, I form these syllables with ease
I’m taking on the bankers, while your busy hugging trees
My number for the system and my culture from the pen
You gather round your mortgage like it’s something to defend
and subvert my culture, to sell it down the line
Using pornographic billboards that assault the eyes and mind
My patience growing thinner, as I claw the uniform
And my foes are getting stronger, yeah I’ve seen it all before
The money has been building up to something it can’t say
Mixing heart attacks and slavery with “having a nice day”
So blinded by Tattslotto, buying tickets that expire
Yeah that’s twenty bucks spent, get the money hungry high
A chance to dream a chance to scheme, forgetting that your lost
In the war machine around you, ever wondered what it costs?
No?
Well that’s how they do it.
That’s how they do it every time, you might’ve noticed all the liars
You’d have seen it in the smile spitting semen from the spire
The wonder is destroyed unless we occupy the land
Forget the constellations, come and lend a helping hand
Analyze the reasons, your friends are talking crap
Resistance put it’s roots in, produces all the sap,
This tree is growing stronger, every fucking day
And I’m here to lay it down the only way I know how
Take a seat you fucking cheat, I’ve got your number now,
We’ve seen you in your uniform, strutting round the town
Pistol whipping faggots and oppressing all the whores
The murdered Aborigine has the right to settle scores
Finally got my accent on, finally got my grip
Finally got a strategy for turning mood to shift
While others find their rhymes are getting blander by the second
Once again my lexicon becomes a day of reckoning
Ho! I’m coming in faster, with Noam Chomsky in a trance
Ideas are the substance, they’re the floor on which we dance
Forget about the halo, it’s been swept up in the tide
Forget your schools instructions it’s the workers time to shine,
Watch em put the money in, watch em push us round again
Every single crime of theirs is coming back around again,
Oh the torture den, ah the torture den,
Bricks and mortar that they’ve build up all around you then
Oh the torture den, ah the torture den,
Fuck the boredom that they’ve built up all around you then



