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lirik lagu sacrificial tender – deadpan

[intro]
day number who the f*ck cares of getting sent to live in the pit forever
twisted and fit like tetris bricks, 50k deemed criminals are treated as the simple cost to fix the errors
didn’t serve the richest interests, didn’t get protection
been obsessing over that night for twenty*six decembers
can still taste the gun metal on my lips as lieutenant quick fists yelled i’m free to live or pick surrеnder
let’s envision it

[verse 1]
lеt me get a strip when every pig is on the spit as sacrificial tender
rusty plier*grippers reluctantly clipping barbed wire off the prison fences
then grin and self*identify as liberators
your ritual garb tells a different ending
silver vests lined in sharp iron disassembled
helpless visitors’ cryptic messages are so vivid, even the bars are getting restless
still living in that cell, scribbling, but their siblings lit a vigil, in remembrance
dim enough to be every inch of the heart, body, and liver*wrenching
c.o.’s squint and see the distant remnants
then switch shifts with the rhythm of a piston engine
in synchronous step with that hans zimmer record spinning
gentle like the six slits where the sheriff’s neck met the ancestral crystal pendant
repossessing the blood diamonds and life*loving in one crime, try him again
the sirens singing trippie redd and jimi hendrix
it’s either bend or enter white christian heaven
you paid a dime for their time but didn’t expect to be a victim of vengeance? pathetic
now their crypts are blessed with richer tenants: perfection
who perished on that watchtower in descension
died defending owners’ pockets holding power with a quasi*religious reverence
just ‘cause you called those metal cages low*risk investments
get your sh*t together
get your motherf*cking sh*t together
[bridge]
that isn’t freedom (don’t make a noise)
it’s the same sh*t (don’t make a noise)
i promise it (don’t make a noise)

[verse 2]
your rhodes keyboard was cecil’s own
the keys made of red, black, green, and golden peac*cks’ beak and bones
swear illegally taken machines make the sweetest tones
notes are breathing broken pieces of that sea of homes
heaping load of caesar’s romans in your means of composing
reached through the phone, stole the prince lyric
and quoted it sheepishly: regal emotions
oh, you must be a star, huh? the way your reach is global
strolling into columbian record sessions, humming into tube mics in a spiked booth
said you write the truth, spreading the proof they’ll use to indict you
scream you’re free on that owner’s mic you sold your rights to
scream you’re free on that engineered hit, meaningless recital
scream you’re free on those exported goods that you don’t own a slice to
screaming that you’re free, kneeling to that owner that you sold your life to

- deadpan

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