DECA//BILL

@decabill.ca

9 Followers 2 Following

broadcasting pirate tiktok // upend tomorrow communicate// http://decabill.ca collaborate// http://decabill.art

ready for a cheap-escape on the brink of self-des truc tion wide spread pa nic bro ken glass in side myh-ead blee ding down these thoughts of ang uish mass con fus ion well, the world is a sick ma-chine bree-ding a mass of shit with such a des o late con clu sion fill the void with i don't caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare there's-a plague in-side of me Eat ing at my dis po si tioooon Nothing's le-eeeeft Torn out of re ali ty to a state of no op in ion limp with haaa-ate Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii wanna jump ooooooooooout iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiI wanna jump oooo-out Iiiiiiiiiiiiii-iiiiiiii wanna jump ooooooo-oout Iiiiiiiiiiiiii wanna jump ooooooou-out
All my life I've been good But now I'm thinking, "What the hell" All I want is to mess around And I don't really care about If you love me, if you hate me You can't save me, baby, baby All my life I've been good But, now what the hell
The distorted view from my misty window Has a thin ray of light that's got a peaking crescendo The moon is a clock face that's tick, tick, ticking with a crooked smile We're all in the rat race, together, we go the extra mile Knock the surrounding buildings down, I'm calling out for help I'm shedding my skin like a snake slithering You gotta stop the overwhelming self-doubt Catch me dancing in the summer rain with my tongue out Woohoo! Yeah! (Ow!)
Bare witness to tha sickest shot while suckas get romantic They ain't gonna send us campin' like they did my man Fred Hampton Still we lampin' still clockin' dirt for our sweat A ballots dead so a bullet's what I get A thousand years they had tha tools We should be takin' 'em Fuck tha G-ride I want the machines that are makin' em Our target straight wit a room full of armed pawn to Off tha kings out tha west side at dawn
[Verse 1] It must be your skin I'm sinking in It must be for real, 'cause now I can feel I didn't mind, it's not my kind It's not my time to wonder why Everything gone white, everything's grey Now you're here, now you're away I don't want this, remember that I'll never forget where you're at [Chorus] Don't let the days go by Glycerine, glycerine [Verse 2] I'm never alone, I'm alone all the time Are you at one? Do you lie? We live in a wheel, where everyone steals But when we rise, it's like strawberry fields Treated you bad, you bruise my face Couldn't love you more, you've got a beautiful taste
[Verse 1: Ambrose Kenny-Smith] Butterflies, they begin to flutter now Melting inside the popcorn butter brow His shots are lined up, gotta love that clinking sound Jess is cracking the whip to head down Am I an offering to the gods in the ring Entertaining feasts fit for a king? All the blood, sweat, and the tears that we put into everything Year after year, we're still here [Chorus: Ambrose Kenny-Smith, Stu Mackenzie] In this field of vision (Field of vision) We seeing Cyclopean (Cyclopean) In this field of vision (Field of vision) We don't need need no religion [Verse 2: Joey Walker, Stu Mackenzie] Still running blind after so many years Surely something's gotta give? (Woo) Corneal conditions got me scrutinizing I'm feeling like a horse on ket Yeah, the thunder of the hooves Run from a pack of wolves The drumming of the limbs, overtake the wind Living in a field of vision
i don't know howwhat to do with this just yet New Just now tete tendrils are reaching and spiders legs feed the crows upend tomorrow we're working on it. this is the one for the people. they have it coming. Share
This time the bullet cold rocked ya A yellow ribbon instead of a swastika Nothin' proper about ya propaganda Fools follow rules when the set commands ya Said it was blue, when ya blood was red That's how ya got a bullet blasted through ya head Blasted through ya head, blasted through ya head I give a shoutout to the living dead Who stood and watched as the feds cold centralized So serene on the screen, you was mesmerized Cellular phones, soundin' a death tone Corporations cold turn ya to stone before ya realize They load the clip in, omnicolor Said they pack the .9, they fire it at prime time The sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz And mothafuckas lost their minds
The drippin' tap won't be turned off by the Suits in charge of the world and our Future's hangin' on by a thread With our heads in the sand, woo! The drippin' tap won't be turned off by the Gods up above us, Big Sky Country That we never hear from in these Times of our dyin' needs