I have nothing
The cerebral gallery we slave to maintain
Exhibits nothing but dangling frames
Golden rust feathers to the ground
Multifaceted gravity helps it trickle down
What once was art now yellowed paper
The portrait subjects total strangers
Roaches in the walls, rats in the halls
The secretary's dead but no one calls
The paneling's rotted, the doors are shattered
It's all out of code but none of it matters
There's still one person working inside
Breaking sweat and bones and burning alive
Attempting to restore the faded pictures
With an elbow grease and saliva mixture
Realigning those crooked frames
But without parity or clarity they don't look the same
They're hanged and rehanged but they just wouldn't stay
What it originally meant, we couldn't say
Not for vulgarity or lack of language
But for lost sincerity rapt in anguish
Bankrupt, defunct and out of sight
Operating solely within the mind
Nothing displayed can be discerned
They apparently depicted the things we yearn
A bitter C-suite in tattered textile
The only exhibit is that of exile
So if it's sorrow you seek to see
Stop on by, admission's free
Costing only all you are
A forever unanswered call to arms
Well, here's to all the "here's to's"
Cheers to all the cheers
A burnt toast to the cherished past
The sum of all our fears
Is a negative number far from zero
The empire of glass ruled by Nero
It is only natural, subjectively factual
To passionately worship a Comstock hero
Nonstop
Nonstop
Nonstop
Drink up
There's a stick-up in the memory bank
There's a stick-up in the memory bank
Our safes are not safe, they can never be saved
There's a stick-up in the memory bank
The elephant in the room
Is that the elephant in the room is close to death
It can't get up or control its breath
Take up tranq or get the gun
Whatever it takes, just get it done
Because constantly seeing your life flash before your eyes is never fun
Best to give 'em a better one
So be a patriot of a poacher and put down the pach'
Cuff 'em by the scruff and bring 'em 'round the back
Cut and dry, that's that
All in all, the sentiment shared
Is the past is something that's no longer there
I have no desire to be in the loop
I'll just stay in the square and pine for my youth
I deserve everything I have
Thank you
The cerebral gallery we slave to maintain
Exhibits nothing but dangling frames
Golden rust feathers to the ground
Multifaceted gravity helps it trickle down
What once was art now yellowed paper
The portrait subjects total strangers
Roaches in the walls, rats in the halls
The secretary's dead but no one calls
The paneling's rotted, the doors are shattered
It's all out of code but none of it matters
There's still one person working inside
Breaking sweat and bones and burning alive
Attempting to restore the faded pictures
With an elbow grease and saliva mixture
Realigning those crooked frames
But without parity or clarity they don't look the same
They're hanged and rehanged but they just wouldn't stay
What it originally meant, we couldn't say
Not for vulgarity or lack of language
But for lost sincerity rapt in anguish
Bankrupt, defunct and out of sight
Operating solely within the mind
Nothing displayed can be discerned
They apparently depicted the things we yearn
A bitter C-suite in tattered textile
The only exhibit is that of exile
So if it's sorrow you seek to see
Stop on by, admission's free
Costing only all you are
A forever unanswered call to arms
Well, here's to all the "here's to's"
Cheers to all the cheers
A burnt toast to the cherished past
The sum of all our fears
Is a negative number far from zero
The empire of glass ruled by Nero
It is only natural, subjectively factual
To passionately worship a Comstock hero
Nonstop
Nonstop
Nonstop
Drink up
There's a stick-up in the memory bank
There's a stick-up in the memory bank
Our safes are not safe, they can never be saved
There's a stick-up in the memory bank
The elephant in the room
Is that the elephant in the room is close to death
It can't get up or control its breath
Take up tranq or get the gun
Whatever it takes, just get it done
Because constantly seeing your life flash before your eyes is never fun
Best to give 'em a better one
So be a patriot of a poacher and put down the pach'
Cuff 'em by the scruff and bring 'em 'round the back
Cut and dry, that's that
All in all, the sentiment shared
Is the past is something that's no longer there
I have no desire to be in the loop
I'll just stay in the square and pine for my youth
I deserve everything I have
Thank you
( louiedro )
www.ChordsAZ.com