Respect, Pt3 Lyrics - Selling Live Water - Solé

Banging rocks together makes sunshine 

Banging heads with rocks 'till blood comes: the writing process 

Everything has diapers on and smells like 

It's time for a change 

Or for some holes in the flag 

My whole perspective relies solely on questions 

That can't have answers 

Like everyone oin their assumptions 

A big bigpen driven by dead dogs; 

If that's your site 

Put up a superhero with a better pokerface 

This noble cause reeks of self-gratification 

But it's more like no satisfaction 

So when I die 

The fessin' go to college 

And the writers go to Heaven 

If you wasn't born on this planet 

Blame the World for being there 

I'm not assuming responsibility for everyone lost in the shuffle; 

My whole philosophy is based on moodswings 

Limited attention spans and an expansion pack for everything 

Am I feeling it? 

Mostly full of it 

Selling my cuts for the art of it 

Placed all of my faith in these heretics 

We're all futur presidents; 

Nobody knows it yet 

That's the beauty of it all 

Welcome to my desert island 

The wheather is glorious 

Take a picture 

(No one reads the articles) 

I need music with texture and 

Someday, a happy meal 

Rude awakening after rude awakening 

I'm asking y'all to be police until 

I match the blood on the battlefield 

With the gleam in my eye 

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If I could make it stop raining 

This whole damn place wouldn't know 

What to do with all the sunlight 

I've been saving up for a life like this 

Your God is booing you offstage 

And your heroes don't respect you 

It's all in vain and can't be bought: 

Hung from the ceiling and often attached to the first thought 

She gave me a handshake full of empty promises 

Now I'm thirty minus something 

Plus I wrestle demons down to the ground in my spare time 

It's a new day 

The pigeons no longer fly yonder; 

They make rappers out of messengers and text from all the classics 

Meet the archangel with two minutes to live at all times 

I hold a mirror against a mirror against a mirror against a mirror 

What I'm saying is: 

Word is deceased 

Work is slavery 

They're saving asses for the big layoff 

Where they lie you down to take it like a native colonized 

By search and seizure 

The grass is always greener and when you make it there 

It dies (if getting there don't kill you) 

And the people there don't share 

This is what your bones will sound like when they play 'em in space 

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If I could make it stop raining 

This whole damn place wouldn't know 

What to do with all the sunlight 

I've been saving up for a life like this 

Your God is booing you offstage 

And your heroes don't respect you