Square One Lyrics - Buck 65

Buck 65-Square 1 

(Some mumbling...) 

Pretty soon the hippies of today, will be the squares of tomorrow 

It was the echoing voices of the old ones 

Through thick steeled forests and over scorched earth 

Always just out of reach 

A murder of crows judged my every footstep 

My bones were frozen 

Penniless and entirely out of breath 

I washed my beautiful hands in the black market dog water trough 

But through it all the real stick in my spokes 

Was the torment of my dreams 

I fought of sleep with both fists and sometimes fire 

With no more then a blow gun I made from an exhausted pen 

I shot the stars out of the sky 

When each one fell sparkling to the ground 

I made wishes that never came true 

Apparitions of angels with angry eyes 

Appeared at each new moon 

My own ghost be gain whispering 

Trees died if I tried to climb them 

The decision was made for me 

To begin interpreting real life just as I would nightmares 

(More mumbling...) 

Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65, Buck 65 

Watching an already dead world vanish 

We the banished and outlawed wander 

Hither and yonder 

Like dogs gone hungry 

Funky and angry and sometimes ugly 

Drums like drugs have turned us to scavengers 

Pathfinders, addicts and mathematicians 

Practitioners of black magic 

We make music from used up junk and bad luck dreams 

Liars and losers 

Emus and aardvarks 

Gypsies and pen thieves 

Peddlers, Card Sharks 

All of us fortune tellers home in the forest 

Hard core, building a cardboard fortress 

Forward fast and backwards blindfolded 

Trying to find gold buried in flood planes 

Covered in blood stains 

Fly bites and egg yolk 

Running away with one of my legs broke 

Sometimes it's lonesome 

Traveling homeless 

Not knowing where you're going 

Riding the railroads 

Pickups and sailboats 

Most of the loco-motives 

Once we decide to see some of the country side 

Working with circus 

Performers and cut-throats 

Discussions with perfectionists, perverts and poets 

Haven't you ever heard of the... 

1200 hoboes? 

We aren't vampires dressed like rock stars 

We build campfires and ride box-cars 

Town to town, we just write songs 

And plus we stay up like all night long 

'cause we aren't vampires dressed like rock stars 

We build campfires and ride box-cars 

Town to town, we just write songs 

And plus we stay up like all night long 

20 some years is a long walk 

Even if its not in a straight line 

You see a lot of things in the distance 

You know what they say about great minds 

You and I think about the same things 

Dream the same dreams 

Play the same games 

We started out in the same place 

Believe it or not we got the same names 

Everything happens for a good cause 

Whether it be victory or loss 

And the road may turn into a run way 

But you'll know what to do someday 

Trust me I've seen it all before 

I've climbed to the tops of the tallest trees 

To get away from the deep water 

To feel the touch of the smallest breeze 

You'll find a girl with a low voice 

Who holds the world in her bare hands 

You'll fall in love you'll have no choice 

Once you are given a fair chance 

For the first time you will sleep well 

Take a deep breath 

See the sun shine 

Hold on to her for dear life 

And then watch the whole world unwind 

Ask her to show you some magic 

And I guarantee that she will say yes 

Tell her you've seen forever and 

You'll be together not a day less 

Just know until that time comes 

And after you cross that first mile 

That the hardest part is behind you 

And all the pain will be worthwhile 

(From storm clouds, Come angels, Let pain give you pleasure 

From dirt roads, to flowers, when faith can be measured 

From storm clouds, Come angels, Let pain give you pleasure 

From dirt roads, To Flowers, when faith can be measured. 

I know a man who was born with his heart on the outside 

Every mans worst fear he also had heavy hands 

He couldn't touch his lovers face 

He couldn't hold a baby 

He would never desert them 

But he was worried he would hurt them maybe 

Mad at the world his face turned hot pink 

The best he could do was just try to not think 

But he was to bothered 

So he would only try rarely 

He read the last page of every book in the library 

He lacked the charisma 

Of a true revolutionary crime fighter 

Would try to write but kept breaking his typewriter 

He preaches manifesto militant radical 

Was diligent but his greatest mistakes were gramatical 

If he only spent more time rehearsing and preparing 

There wouldn't have to be so much cursing and swearing 

Eyes on fire 

His volume was blistering 

No one had taught him about the power of whispering 

He is dynamite 

Blows kisses 

Eats dirt 

His mouth of a volcano 

He is a t-shirt 

He stands on stilts 

But doesn't stand for funny stuff 

Ask me 

He just hasn't been around the sun enough 

He paints self-portraits 

With a roller 

Only eats corn 

And then tries to sell his own soul 

On a street corner 

He always remembers everyone's numbers 

And sometimes cries into his own cumbersome hands 

(Scratching... Mixes...) 

Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind 

And lord knows I try to close my eyes 

But it happens so fast 

I keep my eye on the ball 

But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall 

And like 

Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind 

And lord knows I try to close my eyes 

But it happens so fast 

I keep my eye on the ball 

But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall 

Read beginning to end and measured sideways 

I've traveled the length of your desert highways 

Been under your bed 

And slept in ditches 

I saw your scars 

Was kept in stitches 

To keep from crying 

I'm trying not to pay attention 

But as I may have mentioned 

I'm being held hostage 

I'm lost and exhausted 

I want to go home now 

But I'm to far gone 

And I don't even know how 

The silent knight and tarnished armor 

Charming and harmful 

The charma chameleon 

Might get violent 

Dancing with shadows 

And playing charades 

It's the minimal plan 

Of the invisible man 

And what's it like 

Living life 

You may ask 

Standing on the other side 

A two way glass 

Well it's not what it's cracked up to be 

I'll tell you that much 

You can look 

But you can't touch 

Like 

Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind 

And lord knows I try to close my eyes 

But it happens so fast 

I keep my eye on the ball 

But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall 

And like 

Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind 

And lord knows I try to close my eyes 

But it happens so fast 

I keep my eye on the ball 

But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall 

All I want to do 

Is go fly a kite 

Or take a hike 

And try and keep myself 

From taking a flying leap 

There's ringing in my ears 

Especially at night 

Collidescopic visions of a cocaine cat fight 

People play parlor games 

Behind closed doors 

Secrets are sacred 

When nobody knows yours 

But somebody does 

You forgot about the bottom feeders 

The dirty rotten cheaters 

And all of the stock breeders 

Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind 

And lord knows I try to close my eyes 

But it happens so fast 

I keep my eye on the ball 

But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall 

And like 

Sometimes dumb crimes blow my mind 

And lord knows I try to close my eyes 

But it happens so fast 

I keep my eye on the ball 

But still I never asked to be a fly on the wall