lirik lagu tribute to the obedience academy – whose
tribute to the obedience academy lyrics
[intro: whose]
the harvest dried out, there ain’t nothing left
so i sit upon the foothill, and monitor the steps
i try and stay hopeful as we plant more seeds
but the leaves turn brown and the beast must feast
[verse: whose]
come stare at the puddle that i made off of rap
longevity akin to beyblades on the mat
the little armies i have shuffled, put my face on the map
still afraid of the wrath like shane dawson’s cat
blacked out from exhaustion
macintosh, caution
my fingertips like faucets
rip the creativity right out of its nativity
to balance out my debit card balance and my misery
its all about the symmetry
standing in a room of subjectivity and brash decisions
industries expect to see an author and a mathematician
and if you don’t have the will to stab a victim: cataclysmic
some would argue i’m a m*s*ch*st
or a lonely soldier still looking for a path to walk
maybe i’m a stockholmed snot*nose hunting for the locked code
to finally escape from their foxhole
all i know is this
[hook: whose]
the harvest dried out, there ain’t nothing left
so i sit upon the foothill, and monitor the steps
i try and stay hopeful as we plant more seeds
but the leaves turn brown and the beast must feast
[hook: whose]
the harvest dried out, there ain’t nothing left
so i sit upon the foothill, and monitor the steps
i try and stay hopeful as we plant more seeds
but the leaves turn brown and the beast must feast
[verse: the thought]
water dances through the winter failed to turn it around
ice sheets and oil seeping deep into the ground
too many reasons in*season to keep it overly plowed
all these problems compounded by the length of the drought
i haven’t seen but a sprout in a year or two now
might have to move out, screwed out a couple of thou
i k!lled the brood sow for dinner, still getting thinner
who would’ve thought the rude child was a talented swimmer
took a picture of the pasture as we packed for the journey
we had a long path ahead so we just had to leave early
and in a hurry to arrive to the greener side of fences
all these earthy expenses are driving me in a gurney
i might need an attorney but i won’t kneel for their mercy
my fingers dirty for the grain
with which they’re stuffing their turkey
drinking murky water without a daughter named murphy
we cry to god when we’re thirsty
but he decides we’re unworthy
got me firmly by the short and curlies
the burly clergyman losing out to his worries
in a flurry leave this worldly plane
to be unburdened by the shame
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