1. |
Mo(u)rning
03:13
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I may not be perfect, but at least I can change myself
I may not be perfect, but at least I can change myself
Everybody’s got their demons, but I’m just making mine public.
I’m plagued by body dysmorphic, depressed, suicidal tendencies,
a lack of trust and an abundance of apathy
I may not be perfect, but I know I can change
But I don’t want to change
I’m a broken man, but that’s who I am
I don’t want to change myself
I’m a cracked vase, a cracked visage
I don’t want to change myself
I’m a broken man, but that’s who I am
I don’t want to change
I want to live, and learn, and grow!
I DON'T WANT TO CHANGE!
I want to live! I want to live my life!
I want to go down in flames of my own design!
A car fire on the side of the highway!
A funeral pyre that burns silent and high!
A funeral flame that licks the sky!
Flames so bright they light up the night!
Flames so high they reach the heavens above!
I WANT TO LIVE!
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2. |
Pine Box
01:31
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You want that discount faith
That immediate salvation
That instant self-gratification
For your self-serving
Ego stroking
Billowing smoke facade
Who’s the fake now, motherfucker?
Pray for your God
Rest in Abraham’s Bosom
But not that prospect,
Just for a Prophet named Lincoln
Washington, Roosevelt
A pantheon of fake faith and real Hell
Broke-ass mothers don’t get into Heaven
When you die you gotta pray to escape Purgatory
When you’re alive you gotta pray for an escape
Pay for your God
Hard labor in Abraham’s Bosom
But not for profit
Just for a Profit named Lincoln
Washington, Roosevelt
A pantheon of discount faith and real Hell
Broke-ass mothers don’t make it to 7th Ave
When you die you gotta pay to escape the pine box
When you’re alive you gotta pay to escape
You gotta pay for that faith
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3. |
Holy Father Franklin
05:32
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Church is like a hospital
We go there cause we’re sick
We’re spiritually sick
Our sins are the disease!
But lately I’ve been seeing
We’re not going to get better, no
We pull up in our fancy cars, wearing fancy suits,
keep a cross in one hand and a wallet in the other.
We don’t wanna get better
We want to spread the sickness
Spread the disease!
Pray to your Holy Father.
His name is Ben Franklin.
Kneel down before the Dollar.
You’ll never win.
You say your faith is all you need
Well it must be easy when feeding your family’s not top priority
Waiting up all night for these Black Friday sales,
and we wonder why we fail?
I want to be better.
But you don’t want to be better.
I want to be clean.
Cleanse me of disease!
Pray to your Holy Father.
His name is Ben Franklin.
Kneel down before the Dollar.
Pray to your Holy Father.
His name is Ben Franklin.
Kneel down before the Dollar.
‘Cause in this classist world, you’ll never win.
You say you worship my God
But you don’t
You worship a god of greed, a god of green
You’re green with envy
While I grow red with wrath and rage
I grow blue in the face
holding my breath
Waiting for you to change your ways
Now I’m green
Not with envy, but with disgust
Put up an ATM and call it a shrine
What’s your’s ain’t yours, it’s mine.
I’m buying my way to the top of this whole damn hole we’re in.
You say you live by the Grace of God
Looks to me more like it’s the Grace of Guap
Don’t you know greed’s a deadly sin?
Pray to your Holy Father.
His name is Ben Franklin.
Kneel down before the Dollar.
Pray!
Kneel down!
You’ll never win!
Father forgive me for wanting equality
Benjamin Franklin,
Unholy father of green tabernacle is killing us
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4. |
Penance
04:23
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I fucked up this time
I’m trying to rectify
The situation at hand
I’m a mess, disheveled, defeated
I’m sorry that I couldn’t be a better man
But I tried
I tried so hard
I’m so broken
I’m so lost
I feel like a bird with a broken wing
I can’t fly
I can’t sing
This is goodnight
Goodbye
I fucked up this time
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5. |
Blood
05:05
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We’re bound by blood but I need a transfusion
It’s thicker than water but not nearly as nourishing
For once in my life I’m fine
With the leeches latching on me and draining me of your toxicity
Call the doctor
Call the nurse
Get me some Oxy
‘cause fuck it hurts
All this time I thought the reason why I wanted to end my life
Was just me being me, fucking crazy
Voices in my head, a knife, a gun, a fucking rope in my hand
I realize now
It’s not me
It’s never been me
It’s you
It’s always been you
I’ll bleed myself out
Let my veins run dry
You’re hanging me in the bathroom! Asphyxiating me! No more!
Call the doctor
Call the nurse
Pull the plug
Cause goddamn this hurts
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6. |
Fodder for Dreams
05:10
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Faces reflected in water lose clarity as time goes on
Details are lost in our mad rush to rewrite history
Your first kiss; the day you knew what to do with your life;
the night you found god:
it's all refracted through the prism of the present moment
Conversations are mythologized
Actions become the stuff of legend,
or the result of self-invention
Self-invention, deconstruction, a relative view of the truth
In truth, our memories are fodder for dreams,
the property of the collective unconscious
We float through life in a hypnagogic state,
convinced that it all meant something,
believing that our narratives build to something grand,
but really it's all a blur
A blur, or maybe just a daydream
Who is the true god of creation?
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7. |
No Meaning
05:43
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A sea of metal ebbs in the presence
of billowing smoke, a specter that floats
in the distance before
merging with the sky
Not expecting much, I casually turn to look,
slowing to a crawl,
despite what I once told myself
on sleepless nights
Greeting my malicious gaze: the car on fire
The flame is an ethereal force,
burning with omnipotence
as shards of metal shimmer in the grass
I’d never before seen something
so decimated
We continue to move with the tide,
undeterred
I can’t say if there was someone inside
I don’t know what it means
Before this, did I grasp the significance of death,
or had I denied my own mortality?
Can we still say we believe in something?
Could we ever lay claim to genuine belief?
Each second eludes us, expanding infinitely in all directions
before we can take hold, much less understand
Sometimes I think there’s no past, only future
I don’t know what this means
The universe has no answers
My life builds to this very moment
and yet I don’t know what it means
No more
No more waiting for the light to befall me
No more.
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8. |
Reflection
02:12
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9. |
Manifesto
05:56
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I don’t want to shy away from what is painful
I don’t want to be weighed down by regret
I don’t want to be a servant to my ego
I don’t want to always assume the worst in people
I want to form my own subjective meaning, a meaning that’s mine, one that no one can take away
I want to be part of something intimate, something larger than any one person
I want to establish a thoughtful dialogue and have earnest conversation
I want to become educated, create a safer scene
I want to help make a difference, even if I don’t tangibly benefit from it
I want to fight institutionalized oppression
I want to be called out when I’m being harmful
I want us to talk about the things that keep us going without fear of judgment!
I want us to feel compassion, acceptance, and love, a self-love that is truly endless!
I want to believe, against all odds, that three chords, just three chords can change the world!
I want to donate my clothes, give away all my money, provide an outlet for those who are voiceless!
Openly cry, joyously laugh, admit when I’m wrong!
I want to champion sincerity, fight against the status quo, listen to what others have to say!
Help those who are perpetually marginalized
No longer run from that which I can’t rationalize
Give hope to the disenfranchised
I just want to live
In the cold shadow of the city, where we so often wondered what our place was, I want to feel the presence of thousands of souls screaming
“I WANT TO LIVE!”
With fearless passion and endless love!
I WANT TO LIVE!
Without complacency!
I WANT TO LIVE!
Without Compromise!
I WANT TO LIVE!
Because we owe it to ourselves!
I WANT TO LIVE!
Louder! Sing it with me louder!
I WANT TO LIVE!
Sing it! Sing it louder! Scream it!
I WANT TO LIVE!
We owe it to ourselves to live! If we have to claw desperately, trying to make something, anything happen, then so be it. And in the end it’s worth it, because at least it means something. If not to them, then to us.
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10. |
Fiveeight
01:53
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11. |
Death to False Idols
02:32
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We worship at the feet of false gods
Give respect to assailants
I’m coming for you Front Porch Step
Death to false idols
Death to gods of iniquity
Gold-plated wooden statues
Burn in Hell fake celebrity
This isn’t hardcore
It’s vaudeville blackface shit
You sideshow, ignorant
1v1 me, bitch
Death to false idols
Death to toxic masculinity
Death to false hardcore
Fuck your tough guy hXc
Don’t preach unity when you so clearly only care about record sales. You motherfuckers don’t practice what you preach. You hypocrites, you’re a cancer killing our scene.
Step off.
Meet me in the pit, bro.
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12. |
Bloody Justice
01:53
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You’ve got blood on your hands and it spells justice (just us)
You’ll keep killing for your fucked-up sense of justice (just us)
When everyone else is gone and it’s just us
Will you keep killing until it’s just you?
We can’t breathe
We can barely spurt out the words
“Hands up, don’t shoot”
Kill an innocent man,
Call him anything but his name
But now we remember their names
You run an evil empire
The Soviets wish they could
Death to every brother from a different hood
You’ve got blood on your hands and it spells justice (just us)
You’ll keep killing for your fucked-up sense of justice (just us)
When everyone else is gone and it’s just us
Will you keep killing us until it’s just you?
They expect us to comply
When our lives are on the line
But do we really have control over our lives?
We lay down
Beg not to feel the kiss of steel
Only to feel the bite and get told “I don’t know”
You run an evil empire
The Soviets wish they could
Death to every motherfucking
Brother wearing a hood
You’ve got blood on your hands and it spells justice (just us)
You’ll keep killing for your fucked-up sense of justice (just us)
When everyone else is gone and it’s just us
Will you keep killing until it’s just you
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13. |
Refugee Song
06:57
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We claim to be the land of the free,
home of the brave,
but we turn away the displaced and needy
because the color of their skin is similar
to our enemies’
We create self-fulfilling prophecies
when we fund our own damn enemies
“Sorry for bombing your country
Here’s some guns
No hard feelings, right?”
We dismantle a regime and try to buy off the ashes
with promises of weapons and democracy,
but we only end up screwing ourselves and everyone else around us
as a group of disenfranchised guerilla fighters
create a dogmatic military society
Nosotros la gente. No somos illegales
Nosotros la gente. Somos iguales
No espere y mira el genecidio
No espere y mira que mas de
nosotros morimos
Dicimos nunca a la sacrificio
Pero mira desde nuestros celulares costosos
Y ostros utilizan sus teléfonos
Celulares para enviar un último adiós
Nosotros la gente. No somos illegals
Nosotros la gente. Somos iguales
We did this to ourselves but have the gall to punish
those caught between Iraq and a hard place?
We abandon humanitarian efforts or even logical assistance protocol
for the sake of bolstering the strength of the rampant right-wing racists,
fear-mongering nü-fascists?
We’re better than this
“Give me your tired, your poor!
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
She calls, her skin shaded green and blue,
the color of the tempest turned seas around her,
ushering in a new life for those seeking refuge from the storm
Give me your tired!
And your poor!
I lift my lamp!
Beside the golden door!
They talk about Making This Country Great Again,
when they forget,
that we weren’t founded on fear of the unknown,
or giving into terroristic threats
This bastion of freedom,
The New World,
guarded by a New Colossus,
was founded on embracing the unknown
and championing freedom for all the people,
by the people
At least that’s what the forefathers claimed.
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14. |
Trigger Warning
03:05
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A trigger warning, put the gun to your head
A fucking liar and a rapist, you’re better off dead
Someone better call your mother
And tell her that her fucker of a son is a scumbag
You damn predator
Think you’re so damn clever
Hiding behind the face of a drunk man
You weren’t drunk, you were fucking sober
And you took advantage of someone who thought you were a friend
Don’t act like what happened is water under the bridge
I’m gonna drown you in that water under the bridge
Don’t you act like this is a cutesy game,
like you didn’t know what you were doing
Shit like this isn’t an accident
Just remember, you wanted it
Called me the next day with your bald-faced lies
trying to gather sympathy for your psychopathic tendencies
You’re fucking pathetic
The only thing you’re getting from me is a boot to the knee
and a gun to the face
You wanted this
Yeah, you fucking wanted it
You cried afoul
When the jury came to carry out its sentence
You’re fucking worthless
Those weren’t death threats, motherfucker, they were promises
We’ll remember what was said when we cut your throat and pull your tongue out the wound. A sack of shit like you doesn’t get to speak, and you silenced so many, the voices won’t stop in our heads. We’ll remember your face as we bury you alive, up to your neck for the scavengers to feed on, like the way you made us prey and slithered away like a fucking snake. Just remember, you wanted it.
It’s not murder, it’s just twenty minutes of action, punk.
You wanted this
It was no accident
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15. |
Save You
04:28
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I thought I could save you
You picked up that gun
And ended your life
In the back of a shopping mall
You picked up that gun
And ended something that could have been so beautiful
It was your father’s gun
It was your father’s house
If I saw you that day
I know what I would say
I wouldn’t say a thing
I’d just listen
I thought I could save you
I wish I could have saved you,
but you picked up that gun
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16. |
You Are Love
02:55
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You pick me up
When the weight of the world
Is falling down on me
Dragging me to the depths
To my death
I might have died from the stress
Choked out by the anxiety and depression
If not for your love
I am loved
You are love
You broke down
The bedrock wall
Holding me captive
All these years
You picked up
My atrophied body
And nourished my dead soul
I might have died
If not for your love
I am loved
You are love
I was breathing
I was alive
But dead on the inside
A walking shell
A shambling corpse
I might have died
I think I did
You brought me back
From the brink
You are love
You are love
You are loved
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17. |
The Silhouettes of Trees
09:05
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Undefined. Triumphantly so
No longer reduced to a diagnosis that couldn’t grant you clarity
Sitting outside this mechanism, you’re free to claim responsibility for your mistakes
Amidst the chaos and confusion that seem inescapable in the light, you’re finally free to decide who you are
None of this was clear to me six years ago; the only time I’d ever known you
We were surrounded by mutual friends on a late August night, in a dimly lit parking lot
“Make no mistake, music has the power to save lives,” you said without pretense
I nodded in agreement, framed by the silhouettes of trees. We both knew this all too well
Today, in the shelter of the dark, I’ve unwittingly discovered those things that threatened to define you, those things you kept hidden behind the silhouettes of trees
Despite our best wishes and intentions, I’m privy to secrets that aren’t mine to know
An accidental voyeur, those memories become re-contextualized
We carefully select modes of self-presentation
Even so, our self-image is often out of our control
How impossible it is to know passing strangers, let alone the ones you love
And as I sit stock still, having stripped away the veneer, I wonder: could I recognize my face in the dark?
If you had bared your soul to me, would I have known how to respond?
If I were unstuck in time, could I make a difference?
Thousands of people glide in unison toward the horizon
“I wonder where they’re going,” you barely whispered. “When will it be my time to know?”
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Our Wits That Make Us Men Clifton, New Jersey
Started in early 2014 as a solo spoken word act, Our Wits has evolved throughout the three years it's existed, growing into
the band it is today, with changes happening every time a note is played.
Dean - Vocals
Matt - Guitar
Nagee - Bass
Mark - Drums
... more
Contact Our Wits That Make Us Men
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