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cemetery drive - sunday bloodbath lyrics

[verse one + chris wright]
black cloth wrapped around your neck, pull it, cover up your face, mask on, breathe slow, you the big dog
half off, all of my estate, got enough up on my plate, bury me inside an 80’s sears catalogue
bleeding heavy through the gloves, light sensitivity a little higher than it was
hands shaking harder every minute, every hour, trying not to touch my face, getting blood inside my eyes

[chorus + chris wright]
it’s a sunday bloodbath, half past 5, and the streets filled with death, don’t know how i’m still alive
heavy is the hand on the b+tton pushing lies, said it’s safe to go outside if you hand sanitize
cause they don’t care if we die long as they get paid
living penthouse life, while we work to the grave
getting spit on daily making minimum wage
and my mom just coughed, when i thought we were safe
but it ain’t safe now and it won’t be
when this all calms down will you hold me
put the mask down, walk away slowly
let it all go

[bridge + atwood]
and all i want is any other day
walking on a rope that’s bound to break
watching as the time is turned to pain
when my chest sunk hearing the message well that’s okay

[verse two + miles powers]
while i’m walkin’ i’m claustrophobic
i’m crossin’ over, yall close for comfort
check the news and they postin’ numbers
where the gov’ment? yall owe us somethin’

wear the glove and i make it fit
take some time but don’t take a trip
say, “f+ck your protest, f+ck the potus”
can’t take your sh+t. where’s the love?

i see greed, yall really trouble me
joblessness doubling, what’s your priority though?
i value health over wealth
guess i’m in the minority though

if you got food on your table i ain’t got no sympathy
you should “reopen” your mind
it ain’t about you, what an epiphany
think of my family i’m hopin’ they fine

[verse three + thiago]
i’m just calling to check in
said you lost your direction
thought that i had too
but who has one to begin with

when every road is a dead end
every soul is indebted
solitude is indefinite
hors+m+n and we headless
more dead every second

sometimes we just need someone to say that we’ll get through this
repeat that sh+t like a mantra
record that sh+t then i loop it
trade a chain for some prayer beads
still cold in a different way
sandalwood but it weighs on me
through my thumbs i can feel the grain

[outro + cloud mac]
holding onto backwards little metaphors
stuck inside a hospital, i’ve never been that medical, but
it’s funny how a life can be so mechanical
like breathing apparatus just to keep you live and tangible

it’s times like these when we need a little mothers touch
but these days a touch is much like a gunshot
and 2020 is the year that kisses k!ll
but it’s fairly evident that touch has never equalled feel

- cemetery drive lyrics

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