Story Behind The Song

Written last summer in a Dylan inspired apraisal on the way things look to me right now. Recorded using SX and a board full of UAD plug-ins at the house. It took about six months in the studio from December. Drums by my man Daz "Too Tall" Joseph. BV's

Song Description

The truth is out there. It's in cyber space not on the telly! This song is related to one I wrote for Deke seven yrs ago called 3/20/00. where as that drew on real time observations of media events on the day, this one is more of an analysis of its effe

Lyrics

Kicking down the doors
Wailing at the wall.
Jumping through the laws
Of all the liars that we call.
Well they lie about the profit
Well they lie about the tax.
Then they lie to all the soldiers
When they're launching their attacks.
Then they lie to all the doctors
Then they drop down to their knees
Then they lie to you through Jesus H Christ
And they tell you he'd be pleased.
Then they lied in all the corners
When there's nowhere else to go.
If your looking for the answers

Ask those that teach you what you know.

The superstition silence
Of all the smokers on the road.
One life-time of complience
One spoonful of mother load.
You want to run a system?
Here's a system going down.
Another hippy fit knee jerk fisher king
Head without a crown.

I love it when you disrespect my DNA
You can pick it up about anywhere.
I found it in bits outside the factory gates
Where the beasts all fight for air.
And I will sell my soul for a crock of gold
If you say that you wont go.
If your looking for the answers

Ask those that teach you what you know.

Do you believe in the trinkets that they give you
In ordr to keep you quiet well healed and at bay?
And do you believe in a printing press that tells you
Mutual self collapse is the inevitable conclusion
To the over exposure of urban decay?

Satelites are crashing cross the city tonight
There are no angels left in the foxholes.
If your looking for the answer.

Ask those that teach you what you know.

The riverbanks are rising
All the sons are going down.
On the moneybank confessions
Of a season with the clowns.
All the systems that you brought up
Have left you one by one.
And you find yourself outside
In the cold without a gun.

There's a hint of un-rest in the rosary bed
Says the gentleman thief to the girl
And the time-bomb tick thats inside your head
Blows you clean into another world.
Where you shudder in the blast of the over exposed
Who get it right from their heads to their toes.
If your looking for the answers..
Sew your head back on

Ask those that teach you what you know.