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lirik lagu sans abri – gargoyle

verse 1:
half dead in a halfway house
old man, fingerless gloves sippin’ soup from a mug
suite 5 sizes too big
lookin’ in his eyes while he has a shave
“they’re gonna do a jig on my grave”
talkin’ to himself while he stays out late, past curfew
and if he stays out late then he’s stayin’ out all night
has to breathe that bear’s breath
sees things in the leaves of the trees that aren’t even there
the sp*wn of despair
and there’s no convincin’ him that there’s somethin’ out there in the afterlife
that might rinse him, and might cleanse him
you can’t begin again *no*
you can turn a saint to a sinner, but not a sinner to a saint
this world is a mirror
bouncin’ back straight f*ckery in his face
all day, every day

hook:
the emu shieldin’ a kangaroo
doesn’t give a f*ck about me or you
we trudge through the traps and we do what we do
say what you say, it might get misconstrued
some have to cop it while the rich man can sue
four*walled box and your brain’s left to stew
i scream out loud, but they put me on mute
i leave a pile of rubble in the search for the truth

verse 2:
man judges man by his actions
17 y/o needs guidance but there’s none
dad was not like icarus
*close to the sun*
he goes to class where he fidgets lots
scratches his name in the desk with a 5 cent piece
tries to catch up on a bit of sleep
because at home, it’s f*ck all like ramsay street
so he’s never there
every day of the week, he’s out on the thief
he’s got a flare for puttin’ stuff down where his p*b*s are
and walkin’ straight out
and he could give a f*ck about what i’m on about
right now, the world is his cash cal
swigs a beer, lookin’ out at the park
most people see trees and grass
he sees a graveyard
life’s hard

hook:
the emu shieldin’ a kangaroo
doesn’t give a f*ck about me or you
trudge through the traps and we do what we do
say what you say, it might get misconstrued
some have to cop it while the rich man can sue
four*walled box and your brain’s left to stew
i scream out loud, but they put me on mute
i leave a pile of rubble in the search for the truth

verse 3:
i run through the murk like footrot flats in a jacket and a hat
kicks got magnets stuck to the earth
“what’s your date of birth, current address, where’ve you been tonight son?”
the wolves roll by like they’re big bad men, but they’re not
but they tell big bad lies
put your fingers in the ink pad
i stopped askin’ why
because now i know

gargoyle 2007
i.n.c.h on the production
you better listen
and we’re out

- gargoyle

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