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lyrics

Verse

If at first you don’t succeed suspend disbelief/
And if all else fails pretend it never breathed/
I’m clay-footed on the yellow brick to where forever leads/
There’s the here and the now and I’m tethered in between/

Worn thin stretched across the frost of the morning/
Sunsets stress relief and the rise is the warning/
Solar siren become one with the environment/
I and I buys entire souls on consignment/

Its freedom from asylum unity with the universe/
Sky-walking on the firey wings of truth it hurts/
We respond to the messages we used to lurk/
And answer back through the birth pains of mother earth

Delivered into infantry from basic training to faint acquaintances with enemies/
Simplicity haloDim glistening/
2nd lifeline out of time closed mind/
father time are you listening/

verse

the third times the charm the struggle is the bracelet/
speak lies then facelift the sum of the statements/
sent truth on a little vacation/
where stars are born in frustration/

super novas are super close to tempers boiling over/
I shot for the stars but couldn’t control the holster/
This time in vain they’ll allude the six shooter/
But next time they’ll have a bullet wound to get used to/

It seems murders on the mind most frequent/
Lost of the virtue that turns you delinquent/
The same virtue that turns this great circle we inhabit so lavishly/
And exploit it to its fullest capacity/

Enamored with this sledgehammer of savagery contaminated/
Tailed by a force to fast to shake it/
Shaking free of the shackles that contain me in a nutshell/
If freedom is death then whats hell/

credits

from The Master Thief Who Stole Your Lucid Dreams (A Retrospective Anthology Of My Early Sample​-​Based Creative Work), released September 17, 2016
Feat. Turntables by Dacalion
Lyrics & Vocals by Mercury Waters

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Wings Of An Angel image

Wings Of An Angel Israel

My own identity feels like a construct, a collection of roles and personas worn like so many masks. Who am I, really?

Perhaps in the end, we are all just characters in someone else's novel, puppets dancing on strings we cannot see. ... more

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