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youngblood brass band - culture:envy:war كلمات الأغنية

culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
count your dead
kill your poor

what are you looking to find here?

absolution, attainment
atonement, justification

all priced to move you
(standing like it’s action)
bide time with brought rhymes
high five to nine for naught
joke with misdirected lies

who the f-ck aren’t you kidding

i knew you back in school when there
were less actores to look up to
studying simplicity
we still meant the laughter

if you could love yourself
the way you do them
there’d be life after
the playwrights lowered their guns
there’s peace pieces to up again
you used to build
mind your pen
remind your pen

i’m sick of the video you’ve
rewound us in
the headaches:
still shots taken in sequence
hung over old dreams to dry and
develop moldy cultures
still;
all this sun and you’re sleeping
in the dark room
waiting on a film caked thick within
cleaning stained windowsills
instead of taking panes
out of eyes
(i’m out of rhymes)

colourless you hid behind heavy lids
eating surface sh-t
somewhere deep you swear
respect exists
(exits upstage right)

tradegy:
indefinitely more down than a kiss

the -ssumed and the actual
are both a sad performane
an audience will answer
if you question them correct
you don’t see the bl–dy entertainers
you’re trying to resurrect
not knowing you’re looking
is atonement cash or check?
absolved and justified
create an ego to protect

center level center roar
center level center roar
center level center roar
is an army is a form

culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
count your blessings
kill your poor

culture envy world over
respect drunk war sober
i’ll fight for no flag
and battle all devices
old men divide soil spoils
for us to toil indecisive
over whose music’s origins
are righteous or d-mned
or if one is the same can both be
wrought with your hands

we’ve wroung out all lands and brought
bought life
back to life
only this time we’ll go ahead and say the
origins were white
heads in the sand that kept us warm from
the rhythms of the night

you’d think history
would give fair warning

but it doesn’t make for good
sales or stories
and don’t think we’re done
stealing the past
or telling it to you second-hand
while tipping the hour gl-ss
and tilting our hats
one-third
c-ck
eyed
now dance.

i remember when the beat moved itself
through sacred trees and ceremonies
a hapless hieroglyph soul-branded on the
open sp-ces of consciousness
and we are all con-script scrawled across
the middle canvas

draw fast – answer nothing

there’s no question they’ve been here
glyph lock pick pockets
patrolling the selling block
for cheap/easy targets
the dueling heretics of a new religion
doodling death wish on a
fluttery paper soul
draw fast

black canvas impervious
to shades’ shame
paint the world lovely
with indecipherable song
plant the flag of the insane
in land unsold
forego the envious and warring
to play the unknown
what is culture but the gift of dream
what is life but to sing
sleep unseen

center level center roar
center level center roar
center level center roar
in an end many more

culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
count your dead
kill your poor

by now you should’ve died twice
we’re not communicating
one line at a time or
a version of a dying woman
on my doorstep
fading fast the second time around

what’s inside these sounds you mouth
did you hear the call
from across the ages

the sea takes us back too quickly
and i’m far from grounded

now’s the time to sail
before the last tree falls

i’m seeing my mentors sage-less
casting outside their realm
ex-spelling p.g. concepts
to conjure self

i’m seeing priests
prostrate to prophecy
praying in the wrong room
count your blessings
and sell the difference

i’m seeing indifferent sould
in different cells
spilling blood like wine
just to know they’ve been here

hold your pitcher
kill your pour

try to clip these wings
still we soar

frantically flapping the faces
of (not) our kids
heading south to sea too soon to say
‘stay – i’ve seen’

nothing but envy for the green
war for the greed
innumerable dead blessings
and your poor peaceful resting

culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
culture envy culture war
count your blessings
kill your poor

- youngblood brass band

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