cappo - tidal wave lyrics
grand
rain
hail
sleet..
ugh, kafka, poe, i’m john fontain
my words sl!ck as arturo bandini
i’m with the pen i think i’m shakespear and jean rhys
i’m building up plans with both hands
i am grand scheming
corporations on my cap and chest symbolise my worth
i’m still climbing for that cash advancement
power shift, i lift the blocks up on the pyramids
untill i reach the peaks and cut off all ties to my attachments
western ways i’m living blessed
taking from the sword and then replacing that with water boiled
every chance is laid up on the table for the taking
spillin over, nothing’s ever sacred, living for the spoils
and the tidal wave is close approaching
wiping out those false possessions and those goods and chattels
those materials are worthless when the oceans open
turn your million sterling enterprises into scr+ps of metal
and you are swept aside
dropped, lifted up into these gaps between life and death
trapped and caught up in the currents of the great divide
while i’m speaking loud into the track like i’m a man possessed
knowin my time is short
and these angles tighten to the windows of my final chances
but none of this sh+t matters
knowing that the history books are filled with only biases answers
i flip war books and scr+p concepts
randomise the narratives until i’m out of context
i’m a taurus an jack of all trades, keep yer distance
understanding of this art form is close to non existant
neither here nor there, your life is like a painted veil
hid behind a safer side you never dare to stick your neck out
walkin in circles, overusing others views
till over time you’re proof of the divide to how this sh+t was set out
i’m future minded, always looking forward
shedding skin and suicidal acts until i form a pheonix
what you became, the very same as what you claimed you hated
clingin to the same mistakes you makin till it’s all repeated
and the tidal wave is close approaching
wiping out your false possessions and them goods and chattels
those materials are worthless when the oceans open
turn your million sterling enterprises into scr+ps of metal
and you are swept aside
dropped and lifted up into these gaps between life and death
trapped and caught up in the currents of the great divide
while i’m speaking loud into the track like i’m a man possessed
knowin my time is short
and these angles tighten to the windows of my final chances
but none of this sh+t matters
knowing that the history books are filled with only biases answers
rain
hail
sleet
storm
rain
hail
sleet
storm……
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