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nothing is free - sole & the skyrider band lyrics

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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?

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 hiphop
you can’t kill god with a slingshot

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 sp-ce with a bl–dy nose
no tones as atonement, nor maladies and melodies, a calculating killing 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

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

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