ephelant & time – foreclosed ghost story lyrics
[verse 1: time]
that was never you, this was never us
the sky isn’t blue, it’s just an illusion of trust
the sky is always black, the blue is light that reflects
the color comes from the lack of darkness we collect
these eyes have seen shame, these eyes have seen death
these eyes judge and blame, these eyes have wept
these hands have hurt each other, these hands has hurt another
these hands have lost each other, these hands have hugged my mother
and i can still see that old house, where we used to play them board games
we used to play basketball in the alley, now i just ignore the pain
debt and bill collectors, man i swear it’s all the same
banks and cops and mayors, man i swear they’re all insane
final fantasy im in the game, my goals in the crosshairs i got the range
man i swear i got the aim, this is for my fam i got the aim
lies are too convenient, thats why i stick to the truth cuz truth is strange
things fall apart, the truth hurts, i use the bills to fan the flames
luck went bankrupt, i guess were stuck, in my neck she has her fangs
the blood hits the floor and spells out fame, the blood hits the floor and spells out fame [screwed]
every black light can see the stain, flow so sick i got the strain
forever hungry never tame, they be lion, they just shave their mane
too many people lost their brain cuz they let someone else wash their brain
walking on all fours is how i came, i’ll leave on 3 with a amythyst cane
im not insane im outsane, im not deranged im rearranged
life is what you make of it, so im going to make up for everything
[hook: church fire]
foreclosed ghosts, who lives here now?
each memories a phantom, the past takes a bow
every time i think about it an apparation appears
i am your ghost, haunting you in the mirror
the cornea weeps, while the banker sleeps
property is theft and the truth is cheap
im so sorry that happened to you, i wish i wouldve made it sooner
but this day jobs a vampire and all these bills are tumors
i watch em all pile up, jenga to the money
i wanna suplex em, zanhief to all these dummies
do monarchs need p-ssports? do cobwebs pay rent?
should we tax all of the weeds growing out of the cement?
100 years of history seen in a sunset
squatters walk into the home, history, it’s not done yet
contractors show up with sheriffs and police
they treat squatters like animals but developers are beasts
they say broken windows are violent but eviction is not
these arguments are gordian each sentence is a knot
im a child again, the books fly off my shelf
a page rips out i see the words, believe in yourself
20 years later and im giving em h-ll
im telling all these banks i gotta story to tell
dear chris, it was me, i’m your ghost
i knocked those books off the shelf i’m in the machine i am the host
are you a possessor, the blessed or the dispossessed?
tell me your zipcode and i can give you a guess
help me carry this hatchet to this gentrified forest
where its illegal to be homeless and they arrest the poorest
this verse is a paper airplane, ima fly it into your fortress
read the truth it sounds like this, the silence is enormous
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