Modern Life Is War все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

We've been abandoned. Yeah, we've been left behind. Red hot daggers in
our conscious through the long cold night. Are we growing ugly? Are we
wasting time? Tell me your truth, kid. I'll tell you mine. I've
crawled through obscurity to find the heavy burden of a wasted life.
Go north. Endure the pain in your burning young mind. Through the
broken backs in the sands of time you've been recalled to life. We are
the bright lights in these dark times. Thoughts like razors in our
conscious through the long cold night. Lonely and wide eyed. We won't

We were young, numb, and violent all at once. We were always smashing
glass but it was never enough to make us feel OK. Are we normal boys?
Is this the normal way? We've been dragging dead weight across Midwest
towns. Killing our times with our frowns. Alone in the crowd four
years down feeling torn and beaten down. Alone in the crowd four years
down, our hearts were beating to this sound. Me and you: we never got
much sleep those nights. There was too much turmoil too deep inside.
Lost in the dark without our pride...there was a light at the end of

Force fed from the outside. We live a crowded life it seems. Fragile minds in a fast paced world. Can't compute the images coming through the screens. Can't seem to bridge the gap between AM reality and late night schemes. Can't seem to focus as the glitter fades to green. We've lost control. Stained glass from the outside. We suffer from a lack of clarity. Impatience in the information age has taken it's toll on me. Sharp minds dulled down to nothing and filled with fantasy. Exhausted Options: set me free. Walking Backwards. Shedding Skin. I try to block it out. They keep trying to get in. We've lost control. Confusion and Identity Crisis deep in the heart of my America. Another generation has been bought and sold. We've lost control.

Poverty of spirit. Economy of disappointment.
Laborers of the concrete reservation.
I'm a broken record now. Skipping for a
decade now. Still trying not to drown in
this dead eye sea. Is it real? I don't
know, but I feel like it's surrounding
me. And I will never know if I was
truly seeking shelter from the world

Making come true our modest impossible dreams.
Stuck in public school classrooms at age 15.
Those long hot days just before the summer...
Knowing that we're stuck here...
And there's something happening somewhere.
Knowing we know we gotta get there.
It's true what they say...
Death is more perfect than life...

There is a certain constant tension inside my skull.
Insecurities that used to make me crazy, now just make me dull.
So I'm scrounging in a western void searching for relief.
You can check out early & die while you're young or peak, wither & wait for disease.

The party has died. Hangover subside.
With clamped open eyes I watch the death tolls rise.
I hunt with open wounds & sorrow by my side.

I believe I am here to create.
Armed with love & knowledge I will find a way.
If you believe you are here to create.
Seek love & knowledge and you will find a way.
If we believe we are here to create.
Armed with love & knowledge we will find a way.

And I know there are those that would like

Is it wrong to want to walk away when every day of your life looks
like today and today looks like a rotting lifeless gray? I don't know
where things went wrong with me...but I feel like I've become a timid
shadow of the person I've always wanted to be. And I've been thinking
about my past today...thinking of all those times I was afraid...and
all those times that I felt worthless and ashamed. I know, I thought I
was strong. I said I would never change...but that burning house left
me an empty frame...and no longer can I decay...no longer can I keep

No, this is not what we wanted. Yes, this is all that we've got. Listen to the streets in this town and you'll hear a plea for dignity in a life without. It's near midnight on Saturday Night. These sad clowns will chatter till Sunday morning light.
We're common. We're desperate..
We'll do this our own way.
We grew up strong in these humble streets.
We worked all week and we're drinking tonight. There's no end in sight in these humble streets. Methamphetamine still rampant. Churches and bars are full but the library is vacant. Baby faced veterans and factory men singing the same jukebox songs with bottles stuck to their lips. So many children raised on welfare and T.V. It's easy to see how the circle remains unbroken. And I am one of the lucky ones...
We're common. We're desperate.
We'll do this our own way.
We grew up proud in these humble streets.

in this life there are no clean breaks
but starting again is a chance that you can take
i always thought that someday we would
overcome the bad luck and from the burden
the gift would come
maybe i should have known better
but i know we're coming closer to the end
of whatever this has been

What makes a man kill? She questioned as strange shrouds hung over. Southeastern and Prospect in a white slum on a broken night she was the glue illuminated by the moon reciting spray paint hieroglyphics scrawled on walls. What makes a man kill? She questioned drunkards chattered my reply: The gunshots are getting closer work starts tomorrow at eight a.m. bricks in my pillow at seven thirty, this have been a sad day for country music. You cannot untie this knot. Countless broken backs for countless useless products a dignified man and a job well done. Reasonable doubt will not be enough to avoid crucifixion in our nation of perverts. Attention fetishist shoppers. Thriving survivals is your god. Leave lives in ruin if you must. We bleed tabloid. We are safe we are fit and we are having fun. The stench of burning flesh will never reach this neighborhood you cannot untie this knot. What makes a man kill? Is it noble when it is his order? Is it pitiful when it is his well? Countless broken backs for countless useless products. A lifetime of suspicion. A timed escape from a trained fleet of rats. A polished boot grinding into your neck. Baring teeth for biting ankles is what makes a man kill.

The neighbor boy is home from the war.
His father's pride...
It spills across the factory floor.
And Jimmy, in the paper, I saw you...
Holding that gun
And I read the interview about the 234 and the blood in the sand of an oil rich land.
While I was back home safe and clean.
John and Jimmy...

You push me around just like I'm a clown
You wanna see me suffer
You treated me just like you treated the ground
You trampled me all over

In times like these
where survival is the game

Perfect peace in solitude
Perfect Peace in the crowd
Do you see yourself in me the way I see myself in you?
In everything I do I'm always cashing you
Bursting with a passion for life his skin can barely contain
Always watched out for me
Always did the right thing
Always stood up

Sustained by madness. Sustained by Darkness.
Heroes and Fuck-ups bounding through time.
I sit alone. I raise a strong drink.
To your songs. Your words in think black ink.
And lives lived. Not fairy tales but flesh and blood.
Rimbaud on the Red Sea. Strummer in the slum.
Plath at her daddy's grave. Hunter with his gun.
These Punks. These Cowards.

I'm in an awful state.
It's getting late and I'm full of question.
My overactive mind has been wastin' all my time.
So I've been wandering aimless every night and sleeping every day.
But it really doesn't matter anyways
'Cause the second coming has been cancelled since sometime around
1982 when Jesus looked down from his cloud and saw school kids...
They were duck and covering.