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flow season - no hymns lyrics
[verse 1: wack]
what’s left in your head when the beat stops?
is it praise, is it blame that you feed off?
who’s there when the blues is the backdrop
and the gloom and the grief hit the blacktop?
in the middle of that ghost town, hectic
where your thoughts go ‘round ’til you get sick
let it leak out the bottle it’s kept in
’til your fears are the friends you rejected
money back if you don’t find that you been
looking just a little bit strange in reflections
funny that we are taken aback
by the ways that we changed
but the cause isn’t questioned
what’s that?
what cracks, unstable?
brand new, blue
this time’s one angle
don’t ask for a hand
when you need help
if you’ve seen h-ll then
keep to yourself
all good
knock wood
let the technique talk
toss heat
on a beat
give the best he got
and say grace ‘fore he dig a plate
face full of “oh well”
hope for a ghost
don’t know what you don’t tell
everybody that’s avoiding the front
with your arms criss-crossed and your nose turned up
no skin off an -ss if you don’t laugh
when i spit it funny, if you don’t dig us
but i’m stuck, at recital, or bust
and i trust, it’s some sh-t
inside of my blood
if you craved and you dreamt of a stage
where you empty your rage
from the heart in a flood
take a swing
or a punch in the ring
and you just might find what you’re capable of
let it burn
let it twist, let it turn
and you just might see that you’re like one of us
[hook: wack]
no kite for the kid (hey)
no lie, on the bible, been away
no hymn for the twists in your ribs
and the itch of your skin
when your pastor p-ss away
too bad where you been (hey)
no hands reach out to castaways
no hymn for the twitch of the lid
when you’re sick of your kin
and your family tree’s aflame
[verse 2: fleeze]
a universe probably exists
where i got together early
made a name for my sh-t
rent paid up, i’m not bankrupt
spoke to my dad before he
did what he did
yeah, yeah
that would be nice
but i’m living this life that’s almost scheisse
the ref’s counting up, son
1, 2, 3, been pinning me down easily
i’m out of breath
i’ve had enough
i’m tapping out
you won’t let up
f-ck this kid, let’s snuff this b-tch
show him where his kayfabe ends
yeah, yeah, it probably exists
a universe
where fleeze gives a sh-t
what you see is what you get
no m night shyam
last second twist
i see the dead
not taking breaths, they haunting me
shades from my past
medicate the deaths
affecting what i see
[hook: wack]
no kite for the kid (hey)
no lie, on the bible, been away
no hymn for the twists in your ribs
and the itch of your skin
when your pastor p-ss away
too bad where you been (hey)
no hands reach out to castaways
no hymn for the twitch of the lid
when you’re sick of your kin
and your family tree’s aflame
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