kettle whine (feat. Seb Rosa)

Kettle whinin in the distance
The squeal of realness only keep me superstitious
And ceasin to feel existence
Cheap vindictiveness keepin they fists clenched with wrenches
Interventions wont suppress sensitive messages
No representatives for peasants, so they stretch to live
Its day of reckoning for every other vessel
His hands stretchin to the lands ancestry
Tell the men, they must yield or draw they weapons
Plan to raise hell on no mans land and trenches
Drop bombshells on farms, with foreign investments
Different forms of chemical warfare never fail to impress me
Its targets on backs of officers they belong to the effigy
Never set em free
Pullin levers, pushin pedals through the grass, falsetto shriek
Heed what the devil speak
Shh
Hail pourin from the firmament almost every week
Next season ill be keepin every bit of ice
Tried to reap earths provisions but it didnt suffice
A modicum of light in the dim citizens trife
Too little left to be runnin around with scissors and knife
Its so simple being miserable
Another crack in metaphysical
Festivities ridiculed by lesser known individuals
It stick wit ya like cinnamon in your throat
They throw us into a pit then they give us chisel and rope
Its your decision, either die quick or die slow
More infringement is all that they know
Tire marks pave the way through all the fallen snow
Tiger sharks swimming in pools of blood and wounded souls
The rhythm of loss and prayers to god starts to shatter bones
And only does a man with a rifle learn how to hold his own
The cortisone can flush away rashes, not bullet gashes
No matter where the ashes blow, everyone's life flashes
The shriek of the kettle consumes you
The heads start to pop like balloons
The rain pouring out like the blood do
Hold your breath please don't inhale the fumes
Cough!
The smoke in your brain is invading your every thought
Shock!
the blood in your veins is beginning to boil up
Rot!
Your skin will decay like the the rest of the ones you love
Stop
Feel the flash on your face, the wrath of God.
Torn dreams, soul aint never healing from the morphine
7 horns ring, soul springs as the lord sings
Play back the strings of the devilish kings
Who utilize their population as collateral for handling things
Crash landed from the astral plane
Pollinate the land, thick plasma hands grabbin onto fate
Erase the man that doesn't dance and wouldn't die for your demands
So when the story starts again he'll be a slave reborn to wage the war instead