Текст песни Fallen Famous - Ceschi

When something beautiful dies
People turn sideways their eyes

One round of applause for the dollar bill doldrums
Two for the bankrupt distributors
Three for the folding indies
Four for the fallen famous
Five for the lack of support
Six for the millions of kids who missed the mid nineties
Seven for the rappers telling me "rap is dead"
Selling out
In their petticoats
With their petty drama
Bourgeois fear
From the rebels who once screamed in our ears
About money and guns
About politics
Wonder where they'll go?
Will they ever try to dig themselves
Right out of the comfort of their own homes?
When a life implodes fragments flow deep into the black
Into the forgotten
Swallowed whole
In a landslide of kudos that turned to - who knows?
What a shame
To be taken
Right into the grave
By the devil and his henchmen
The same ones that took his pension
And left him in a grave defenseless
Not to mention
No attention to the messes
Just a box-set
Sitting next to a Smith and Wesson
Fingerprints still lingering on trigger metal
Heavy metal on a record spinning
"It's the end of your era I tell you!"
His publicist screams
On a warped tape answering machine
From the eighty's
Silver lining never came
The defining moments fade
With radio play
Put away
Any stray
Bullet in your brain
Get it ready for that long play

When something beautiful dies
People turn sideways their eyes
When something beautiful dies
People turn sideways their eyes
When something beautiful dies
People turn sideways their eyes
When something beautiful dies
A cry is raised to the skies

Every day something beautiful dies
And nobody cries for the swatted flies
Because they lingered around insignificant
Living just distant of people's eyes
Disgusting Vultures
Circling around the bodies of my fallen heroes
Making jigsaw puzzles out of bones
While lilacs limp from the stench as flesh erodes
No need to worry about packing bags Julius
Maggots don't care if you're dressed
Your mother's gone
And the suit don't fit
A 9 millimeter's gonna be your last kiss
And no one's gonna be there when you take a final breath
And even though you want to be remembered as an übermensch
It's less
It's less than ashes in the sea
It's less than a fresh coat of makeup on
Your gray face at a wake with a catholic priest
It's less than heaven
Less than irrelevant
Less than the most negative segment
That you could even conjure up in your vast imagination
It's tasteless
It's dirt
It's rotting organs
It's worms
And the perfect sounds are drowned out by the ground now
By the cries of the few and far between
By the record labels that are capitalizing on dreams
And they'll repackage you as deluxe
And they'll romanticize your death grunts
But the dust on the dollar bin gatefold sleeve just
Screams that nobody gave a fuck

People turn sideways their eyes
When something beautiful dies
People turn sideways their eyes
When something beautiful dies
A cry is raised to the skies