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lirik lagu 6 a.m. is the hour – ryan scott oliver

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[sossiter]
you awake in your bushwick apartment
it’s 6am. the sun is gone
but really gone; the sun’s not shining in the sky
you can’t make sense but still you try —

you try your phone. no bars, no net
this is as strange as strange can get!
day is night
left is right
birds of a feather now don’t flock together now!

kim jong*un? maybe putin’s the culprit?
still 6am. today is sh*t
well, nearly sh*t
the problem’s clear as day — well, night
it’s up to you to fix this, right?

k, get to work!
first step. think quick!
what’s the solution, what is the trick?

when planets pause
logic obeys no laws
still… all things have opposites
one stitch in time saves nine —
you step out your bedroom door
into an empty void!
infinite sp*ce
you plummet through the air
it’s 6am all over the place
and you become aware

the cowhands are battling with terrified horses;
the trumpeters leaving their gigs, cash in hand
no busses are running
and all the armed forces
are watching and waiting the big chief’s command
you don’t understand
but you land…
on a street…
in some new dimension
beneath your feet

a saloon in an old western ghost town
it’s 6am. the time is now
you step inside and find three gods mid*poker game
each welcomes you and states his name

osiris first. then zeus, then thor
but what in the world were these god’s playing for?

as zeus inhaled his beer, oh
oh, the truth came thundering clear
the fate of the human race
picked by a poker face!
“how do i bet,” you ask?
but you already have…
the missing sun

so you bet n.y.c
three hundred million, and most unhappy
you show your flush
thor has a straight
the loss could crush
but hush! just wait!

in the next hand, you’re dealt four aces
you put sun city into the pot
why not?
but then thor raises
a century of scalding lead…
you raise america
what else have you got?

he throws in a comet’s tail
with a gold*plated grin, ha
but four aces never fail —
so with a smile, you’re all in
but thor has five aces…
you lose
and thor is laughing…
you throw all your cards at him…
thor swings his fist!
he pummels zeus and a fight breaks out
now’s your chance to escape!
back through the void —
and you wake
in your bushwick apartment
it’s 6am — but the sun burns bright
such crazy dreams
you light a joint and feel that burn
and watch the time to see it turn
but it doesn’t turn. you need to pee
then at the window, in terror you see:

your big beautiful world
as into the sun, it’s hurled
thor won us in a lucky bet
and thor decided we ain’t worth the sweat

well, oh, well!
we had a mighty run
but now it’s time that we should get some sun
so, goodbye, and how bright, the shine!
how i miss good old 5:59

oh, h*ll it’s getting hot —
i should have smoked more pot!

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