paroles de chanson Die When U Die - Jehst
Every
dialectic
shapeshifts
a
makeshift
shield
of
hatred
I
spit
fire
Quick
fire
Twist
fire
Roll
a
roach
from
a
ripped
flyer
Tip
toeing
over
ego
trip
wire
Soft
steppin
on
eggshells
as
hell
beckons
A
bed
of
black
rose
petals
on
my
twenty
second
With
twenty
seconds
on
the
clock
I
kept
many
guessin
A
game
of
death
threats
met
with
defiance
I
bring
stones
for
the
riots
While
the
right
side
of
the
brain
extends
through
computer
science
Flicks
fictionalise
our
lives
In
alliance
with
the
Queen
in
the
core
of
the
hive
Breeding
parasites
The
wise
read
and
analyse
the
scrolls
Stolen
souls
dissolve
in
alcohol
Master
drunken
pole
A
cold-hearted
defence
in
this
dungeon
hole
I
hold
hope
for
the
globe
in
a
closed
palm
Locked
in
a
gold
heart
Lost
and
emotionally
charged
I
chart
progress
Through
this
pain
staking
process
Elimination
of
the
grotesque
(no
less)
This
overblown
mess
left
grown
men
stressed
and
suicidal
Cyanide
drips
from
the
vinyl
My
vital
signs
fade
I
m
trapped
in
a
pessimist
s
mind-state
A
frozen
emotional
ice
age
My
words
form
pictures
Jigsaws
built
from
torn
scriptures
A
warped
image
A
collage
of
small
figments
Inter-related
Creative
with
raw
English
I
walk
with
born
sinners
who
talk
business
Subs
and
permanent
fixtures
Medicine
man
sippin
elixirs
Wettin
my
lips
and
lickin
the
rizlas
Listening
to
enemy
transmissions
Sittin
here
pickin
the
splinters
out
of
my
flesh
The
fresh
script
inker
Indica
stick
sticky
fingers
Balanced
on
the
brink
of
drinking
binges
While
friends
sink
syringes
into
their
skin
And
it
could
all
end
in
an
instance
With
no
one
to
discipline
the
infants
Walking
the
ledge
I
stay
nimble
as
ninjas
My
pen
nib
inches
Closer
and
closer
Ghosts
in
my
dome
stay
closed
in
a
coma
Crows
overhead
Twisted
as
the
trail
we
tred
Most
failed
or
fled
Ended
up
jailed
or
dead
But
never
me
Eyes
in
the
back
of
my
head
for
any
enemy
Ready
for
them
backstabbers
Suited
and
booted
on
this
black
Sabbath
Truly
polluted
by
the
pain
I
paint
the
blues
on
a
blank
canvas
We
re
all
judged
by
the
same
standards
Saints
gangsters
and
base
heads
in
St
Pancras
It
s
plain
madness
My
brain
strains
to
make
sense
of
We
blaze
ten
spots
This
games
deadlocked
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