Testo Nuclear Summer - Youngblood Brass Band
Testo della canzone Nuclear Summer (Youngblood Brass Band), tratta dall'album Is That a Riot?
From the left shoulder of a nation
From skies lined with the mechanisms of death
From virgin valleys of wrought iron angels
We come, we drop, we're bombs
And we're in... hordes of us scraping over the walls
There is no darkness so deep that we cannot paint it present
There is no cause so bleak that we won't bail in vain
We are the brain's army dispatched in vain and we c-c-course
Death eyes run through ink and pigment splattered on barren ground
Swords aloft, screaming battle cries in all tongues lost
In the old blood boiling over timeless ideals
We abstain in every sole present enough to walk the foe home
Scarred and tattooed the sign all over your body
For these sun-kissed plains of raw riders scream "it's coming"
And the grey lumps which fall ahead are sliced clean off
Once a benevolent president tears open your cheek
A tongue will come flopping out
It will lay on the ground licking slush off our frozen streets
Then it will die, your love curdled already besides
I'll kiss your hand, you won't see the smirk beneath my lowered eyes
Nothing can get wise
All my children are carrying knives
More pressure, more fire, more peace, more crime
More people, more hungry, more heat, more divide
More force, more feet, more salt, more rhymes
More echo, more climb, more test, more sky
No color, no funk, no power, no mind
No chick, no bitch, no move, no rhyme
One trigger, one move, one second, one line
More pressure, more fire, more peace, more crime
More!
How 'bout a little warhead in your abdomen? Ooh, how 'bout a stain?
How about a martyr is the javelin, more battle is the game?
Oh, inverted realm, I'm thinking Nobel Prize
Because the marriage of preemption and commerce, that was mine
I prefer a phallus to a circle every time
I prefer to make a beat that wipes a village from the map
I prefer a fallen halo when it's dancing on your lap
Are you perverts having fun yet?
It all comes out grey and matters less with each sunset
Here come a bomb, the sound of bub language
The sound off kilter with casualties pending
The pact in death, the action packed ending
It's not sarcasm, we're training eyes
Hands where we can see 'em, ass in the sky
Asinine lies for assassins who need
A motive for making that human ink bleed
Champions... why?
Calling all living, affirming all dreams
Screaming all hell, as real as it seems
Rescind your explosions, get up off toes
Kids are at attention tending towards prose
Smolder at shows, shoulder all comers
Dirty old bushmen your season is waning
Sorry about peace, bitch, fucking bummer
Ain't that a new kind of soul music, father and mother?
Here come the heat, nuclear summer
More pressure, more fire, more peace, more crime
More people, more hungry, more heat, more divide
More force, more feet, more salt, more rhymes
More echo, more climb, more test, more sky
No color, no funk, no power, no mind
No chick, no bitch, no move, no rhyme
One trigger, one move, one second, one line
More pressure, more fire, more peace, more crime
More pressure, more fire, more peace, more crime
More!
More! More! More! More! More! More! More!
More! More! More! More!
Credits
Writer(s): David William Henzie-skogen
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