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lirik lagu rat race – chris nerger

we in the rat race, stuck in a d*mn maze, x2
with a mad face, looking to rampage

we talking like we damaged, we walking like we hammered
more than we can handle
but pour me another handle, attached it to my frame
like a porcelain vandal
going the course of the sandal, walking through deserts and valleys
painted to look like they belong in a gallery, floating so high
they been flying in alleys behind da bar called o’malley’s
happens’ often since a cali, gal
named allie, and sally went from the valley to the dark
stayed out late at the park, smoking trees, taking pics of the ‘gar
inhale til the gaze wanders far, through the veil and the haze
alien lights, light the way
through the plague, at first
the hints nothing more than a vague wave
but the oddest things seem to segue
to the plots of kings, and the call to sing
the source of the falls, this sorcerer’s ball
endorphins wrapped up til they morph into maul
a double ended sword, who has the gall? who had to fall?

we in the rat race, stuck in a d*mn maze, x2
with a mad face, looking to rampage
1:38

keep burning the candle, at both ends
turning the handle when the hall ends
turn to a channel for the offense, not to offend
but to offer ends often, but his offer is lost in
a maze, mind caught in a daze, counting the ways, trying to get back, to that fountain of play, but seeing mountains in the way
hounds in the way, howl for the day, moving castles at night
at the forge, casting the light, into form, so it can dance until the morn
take it’s chances with the th*rn, rose up from the dead
show up in the red, gold on his head
but feet filled with lead, wants to lead
but doesn’t know what’s ahead, will succeed
but on the road is a bed, and the stories are read
to the dreamer on meds
who wonders what have i said, and what’ve i thought?
and why am i dead? and what’ve i got? to do to be one of the gods, from one of the nots? untying my locks, and taking my shots
while the fire is hot, to not be stuck in a box

we in the rat race, stuck in a d*mn maze, x2
with a mad face, looking to rampage

but the true sage, knows all except it’s own age
cause all is still a d*mn cage, unless you’all a mage
who casting a spell, to cast out ‘da’ h*lls, and drink form the wells
until you’re filled with the wealth, and healed with the health
done stealing in stealth, to come feeling and yell:
“i’m not a demon, just an angel who fell”
“who froze in ice that don’t melt
an if i was never at the heights
i couldn’t tell

- chris nerger

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