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nothing is free - sole and the skyrider band lyrics

[verse 1]
i’m a busted pill, undiagnosed, resting on a rusty nail
holes in my clothes, holes in my voice
used to launch eulogies from the summit, but i always spoke from the gut
crushed gl-ss in my stomach made it hard to kneel
been to h-ll, tried to drag companions (but for comfort they fell)
i’m a face on mars, a ripple on a stream, a case of sars
a case of fat tire in the fridge
always hoped the universe would be kinder to me
but i’m american, the cosmos don’t like me
put me in a box, told me to dance the same, yet different and not upset the balance
so i choose survival, it’s a struggle
i’ll never cross the atlantic with an ounce of petrol
(and you still trying to build a rock with ethanol?)
the worlds heating up, you gonna save us with alcohol?

[chorus]
you can’t feel new, nothing is free
you can’t clean every toilet in the city
you can’t be thirty and still making hip-hop
you can’t k!ll god with a slingshot
you can’t feel new, nothing is free
you can’t clean every toilet in the city
you can’t be thirty and still making hip-hop
you can’t k!ll god with a slingshot

[verse 2]
it’s too much, one mouth to feed, one life to live, one planet to milk dry
spill your guts (but don’t slip up)
n-body wants to bare your crosses or share your losses
so running the gauntlet ain’t no picnic
want a song about a “protest”?
a song about a slow dance with death?
a cold hand rocks you to be more productive
wish you’d listened but in steel no one hears your scream
cerberus nipping your heels
when you’re slipping, ain’t n-body lifting your chin
2 miles towards space with a bl–dy nose
no tones as atonement, nor maladies and melodies, a calculating k!lling machine
(it’s kicking out all of your teeth before a blind man can say peace)
nonsense is always abundance, in a mock trial, in a fake age of enlightenment
don’t fold your cards, the cable’s about to fold so hold the line
it was built to wear you thin, the mind is a broken box and it can’t hold you steady

[verse 3]
in the words of a pharaoh: “why must i exist? with pale blue lips.”
stranded, ain’t no wings left to clip
conspicuous when you’re buried in rust
and the corners still jeering at us
left hook, right hook, life is a tongue in a bike spoke
gotta bunch through or i might choke
(never gonna be understood by the white coats)
on the mic, i’m like santa, got bombs on a tightrope
they got us figured out down to an isotope, your world is caving in on a microscope
late at night in fright, in day paid to die
(no way to live, no way to die)
no bombs to calm the storm
winter is permanent, summer is a dream long gone
plant a fence, watch it p-ss where the trees are
till the sky is ugly as we are

- sole and the skyrider band lyrics

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