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Yesterday, Tomorrow and You

by Louis Mackey & Thirtyseven

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out in the distance... a city with no lights the wind whips money from sixty or more flights we can finally see the stars, the systems are so bright i try to sleep, it’s hard to get through the cold nights is rough, there’s no comfort or peace get up, wipe the blood on my sleeve, wander the streets cuz humans have to do something other than breathe ...and cash rules nothing when you’ve got nothing to eat I used to wish for peace and quiet do the dishes, read the Times each evening amidst the screaming sirens long before the all out war and the Freedom Riots world leaders dying, Phoenix Rising from the sea of fire now we navigate the ashen gray trash and waste dumped and track the days by after-shakes and a faint sun the last radio waves escape into space echo out only saying my name and the date ...they probably caught it off the television the way they’re always talking and they never listen new raw synthesis, we open heads with no regrets ...only left a few shocked witness …watch ‘em wobble ‘round the shopping malls watch ‘em single shot pivot, stop, drop and fall the whole world’s watching, no one got involved... all the other monsters nonchalantly walked along no medicine for madness, only broken grown-ups numb and overloaded and desperate for distractions ...sodium flouride chemical reactions a billion willing victims for predators to practice with how you sleeping these days? meat in a cage, but hey, at least we’re free to complain, right? how’s your slice of the pie? are you living out a crime or a lie? TIME TO DECIDE
I’m nodding off to the coffee talk at my office job outside, i hear bodies dropping on the promenade I see the city’s vulture eyes and broke swollen face I gotta push it all aside before I go insane nobodys fault but mine you don’t know my name must’ve lost my time in cold, frozen space slipped into the crowd of vagrants, laborers, yuppies wasting away till i’m faded to nothing ...just another passerby riding the train burning, dying to break the speed of light and escape the pharmaceuticals, fast food and bad coffee ...coffin cubicle, bathroom to back lobby where the sheep come and gather to run the ladder and plummet, splatter on the street for a job that doesn’t matter when the day is done, I see it for the shit that isn’t said just waking up making love to the living dead ...I see this city for the cycles it feeds off death porn and sitcoms, writing up theme songs with a blade that I’m breaking by slicing the meat wrong waking up is painful, you don’t like it then dream on death and rebirth, get ready for work aside from seven billion assholes, it’s Heaven on Earth so get money, get power, get presidents murked while the whole world watches, the Kennedy Curse weapons are words are weapons, especially this verse off and on, nothing works and everything hurts ...I see this city for the blood on her lips and that’s not a situation that I’m comfortable with she speaks in tongues that get under my skin, messed up my head, I never forget, she doesn’t forgive tiptoeing through the shards of glass of bottles smashed I always pass when I’m walking back from the laundry mat watch the carbon mass Carnival calling cast all en masse crawl and gnash, arms are shopping bags see the suits at work back where I stand ... still life of the Universe, a flash in the pan Caste status, snapped cameras capture a glance of the upper class laughing, glasses in hand … see these tireless drones walking by on their phone blind to the homeless dying on the side of the road on auto-pilot, driving with climate control ...pass the sighs of silent unknown yo, we walk to work early touting zombie masks and just watch the herd gurnyed out in bodybags while oligarchs and fat circus clowns go ballroom dance one day it’s certain I’ll be on that slab sunrise is for shitty poets and drunk guys tonguetied on a rooftop as the blood dries sleeping on floors, no dreams except seeing my corpse peaceful death, grief or remorse no problem with that, know all of the facts I dove off of the map and globe trotted it back ...when the day is done, I see it’s final form as ten million living cells inside a giant corpse all the same city that you’ve ever been stuck in whoever you’re fucking, whatever you been selling for sustenance me, kids, one breath is all there fucking is just be grateful love exists, take it all and run with it refuse to die alone, the human dynamos produce a liver show than you could try at home, but go have fun with it always overworked, but never spoke a word against a broken burning burden go to church and vote Republican
we don’t argue bout problems ...we target them and take them down often you don’t get it yet we make it sound awesome it’s hard to be honest now, hard for me to watch my mouth with the Hand of God’s cameras watching as I walk around it’s all economics now, everything we talk about from any given office down to every single cop in town leave ‘em lost in crowds, disappeared, dropping out Eagle Down, people shout and scream as we calmly bounce... I’m leveling the shot, remembering the spots and when I’m exiting the block.. dump the weapon in a mosque this is for the long nights assembling the plot the cameras in the mezzanine and bar don’t record right for freedom and safety so if I’m arrested or I’m caught I’m released in a day with a single message from the top plus it’s easier to blame an unfriendly enemy abroad seems the secrets that we sleep with are everything we got ...the sniper scope is a movie classic, that’s nice for shows, but old pros prefer precise explosives... so yeah, whatever demon piece of shit you protect I see the distance and depth and plot the grid in my head’s trickier establishing an adequate defense assassinations never happen if they’re accidents instead I’m mastering my alibis and practicing to death and the news never noticed when I tagged you and I left I don’t see names or victims, just noble reasons things are so insanely different when you know the secret see the open season go in slow motion sequence I spoke to Jesus though I know my oaths to Caesar slowly happens all up in the sober madness I used to be in pursuit of peace but grew to feel old and tattered traded in faith in men for global status rogue combatant, ode to Patton, fold the atlas over back up 3 Hoover was a problem, closet case, paranoid framing fake communists and fondling his errand boys Reagan was a frontman, money came from Asia paid to make a Patriot to cover for the the caper’s just another awful and monotonous job watching the clock, counting every body that drops day to day, strangely mundane, waiting for planes with a dozen interchangeable names, Angleton games … I’ve no excuse, just doing what I was told to do there’s no chosen few, beady eyes or cloven hooves see, I get to be the guy who stomps his soldier boots don’t even try to read between the lines when they show the news and I can’t kill the sound in my head children shout in the background of my lense no doubt or regret down in the depths in and out of my bed, counting down the hours that’s left
...I figure it’s only fair, I strike out, I struck out luck counts, but it’s right down to what now ...a rough bounce or a single skip in the beat and my stoned dick is in the cold grip of defeat ...I love to toe the line in double overtime when it only takes one word to blow the whole design ...I’m the technician, testing the lines and the rest of these guys get to be the envious eyes keep watching, dude...I eat, sleep and breathe awesome decease awesome, six feet deep in a SWEET coffin,too ...used to feel bad I won the frickin’ lottery but I’m working it hard to pimp an ugly system honestly ain’t fucking with philosophy...I do applied physics mess around and empty out the room in five minutes like fine...I strike out, I struck out no touchdowns for chumps, now go calm the fuck down gone are the days of letting "love" fuck my brain up that's the same song I sang getting stuck on a train drunk I'd like to think of myself as a fortified stronghold I see that number calling and I'm mortified beyond hope still don't use the knowledge of past --so any illusion of power I had was stupid, invalid and sad why do I still bitch, protest it and rue my fate? I was clearly human bait the second I knew her face intelligent dumb so I fell for the stuff that melted my junk, man, I should've held to my guns and even if it doesn't seem, she tried though running over with your mind blown on the ride home ...shibasic how it normally unfolds getting wasted in situations that I totally control i’d like to say I’m older and I’ve grown but I still whimper with quivered lips when I’m lonely in the cold
it goes: burnt it all down...built it back up out of nothing, and some kids would kill for that stuff been shedding the desert with some bad medicine and we ate the whole bag testing it ...the constant hum from beyond the Sun that made monkey brains into talking drums with awkward...tongues...the invisible hand the signal that’s been zipping through your pineal gland recurring dreams, birth pains and murder scenes all I know is live shows are church to me homeless rappers doing shows for holy sacraments until we control your whole establishment the curtain’s drawn, we hear now we’re in jeopardy … let it all burn beyond the power of memory props for the guys that’s been robbing us blind and the marketing minds that make us rotten inside there’s a war going on and it’s brought to you by an obvious lie, growing strong and popularized ..but I go along, nod and comply like it’s not solely Goldman’s fault the economy dived and all of us buy it, all of the time even if you read and listen and follow the lies from incompetent columnists caught in the sky to Congressmen calling in stocks on the side ain’t gonna stress if we don’t get a bunch of press we got props from Dr. Leary and that dude is fucking dead breaking chains, taking names, busting heads found out Alex Jones is just another Fed ...infiltrator, same shit, different flavor fame hits and we change quick, it’s just nature ...still, it’s sad to see him go from caped crusader to sniffing Charlie Sheen with Ben Bernanke paper celebretarded, like every artist I wanted to be until I watched em get weak and peddle garbage ...monkey see, monkey do, monkey get another monkey cut in two just to send a message to another dude either stuck in zoos where they drug the food and nothing’s true or else we’re playing jungle rules, up to you... ...monkey see, monkey do, monkey get another monkey cut in two just to send a message to another dude either stuck in zoos where they drug the food and nothing’s true or else we’re playing jungle rules, up to you... the depressing news, the daily shit saying “that’s just the way it is” will be the death of you it’s tv station flip to get amused the wavelengths are crisp, antenna tuned to whatever suits weigh the risks, “remember, the rent is due” …taking the hits, til the way that we live, we never intended to but people are fine with secrets and lies as long as you sweep it underneath a weekend to buy shit watch the figurines spinning in the city streets … to the market-driven symphony of industry gritting teeth, clocks are ticking, clicking feet … we must’ve got addicted to the misery but it’s figures devised, integers, lines it’s not ever really different this time … stocks peaked, profited all day stacked like bodies in Syrian hospital hallways


All tracks produced by Louis Mackey
Except: "Can't Seem to Make You Mine", produced by Dr. Quandary
"Yesterday, Tomorrow and You", co-produced by Nick Williams
Mastered by NickNinjaneer Williams


released March 31, 2015

Cover photo: "Spomenik Tjentište" by Michael Kötter

Layout & design by Memetic Supply Co.


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