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Make Waves

from The Pageant by Solareye

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lyrics

I'm wait-less, meaning I won’t wait
Or I’m suspended in a g-force state,
So contrarily I’m either in suspended animation
Or I’m plagued with this restless agitation
I shapeshift, sinews snap, cracking bone
So even weightless, I weight-lift Atlas Stones.
Holding the history that man forgot:
It’s some view from the shoulders of the giants that I’m standing on.
I’m dazed with a fleeting glimpse of this greatness.
Til a weight lifts and It's replaced with a wage slip.
Shamefully makeshift, I narrate and dictate this
As faceless sadists take the tape and erase it.
They gather to goad and to run their mouths
Words choke in my throat that could cut them down
My heart jumpstarts and splutters out.
The Atlas engulfed in a mushroom cloud.

A voice in the ether, a poisonous breather
Sinusoidal repeater, deployed from a speaker
Devoid of a physical form I take shape
The sound travels on I was born to make waves
Make waves
Make waves
That’s ma spot son you’re gonna want to vacate
The sound travels on I was born to make waves

Patience. In the glance of a waitress:
I'm graceless, practicing complacence.
And evasion, my days slip away
Spouting rhetoric about the agents of change.
Displacement. Typing merrily away,
Systems steadily collate for the identity parade.
Trace this. Unless you’re living like a vagrant
Face it, there’s no secret conversations.
They tap the line and they trace it on the basis
That liberty lies where the terrorists grave sits.
Stay vacant through weeks and at weekends go apeshit
Until we part ways with the braincells we came with.
A list. Get famous. Make the playlist.
These cats can’t hit the target, they’re aimless,
The latest in a long line of fakeness to play with,
I’ll be on the dock of the bay when the wave hits.

Eyeballing with Clouded irises. Viruses spiraling.
Reading the Illiad idly.
A myriad tidal waves. Killing that line array.
Conversing with appliances in universal binary.
You call this indie? I call this skin deep.
Beauty resides behind the eye, where it should be.
The next directive: Here to spread the infection,
With a whole new collection of stories about rejection.
Broadcast the human condition from an illusionist prison
So just listen until we lose the transmission
I’m a revised version ape
I realign ma vertebrae til I can walk with the humans I impersonate
An ugly duckling discovering grace in a lover’s embrace
As shadow figures move puppets on stage
A young woman rasps a cough and covers her face
Judders in pain and waits ‘til her suffering fades
As a bus full of people look the other way
And hold their breath until their lungs fucking ache

credits

from The Pageant, released November 21, 2012

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Stanley Odd Scotland, UK

Stanley Odd is an alternative hip-hop group based in Scotland.

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