A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Non Prophets

"The Cure"

[Verse 1]
Don't deny that sick feeling in your stomach you can't run from it
Let it guide you into high view then move beyond the summit
From peaks to valleys speed through alleys if it's done quick
You'll have the time to find the caves where days were never sunlit
Discover scriptures made by a society of blind men
Who suggest the best directions where you most likely will find them
Dead set on checkmates embracing a chess set
When bedspreads get wet they're left with the scent of death threats
In 7 seconds I'll become undone, I'm breaking through
If you're around by the time I reach number one I'm taking you
You're not the traveling type? Then hide your baggage better
Before you die a normal death and write the average letter
About your internal furnace
And how life's a sexually transmitted disease that you contracted through her kiss
When a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words
If a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive

[Hook]
I'm searching for a cure
This is a sickness
Can you hear me, love?

[Verse 2]
I kick dirt for what it's worth listening to the birds chirp
The same cryptic speech the breeze speaks and sea repeats
Recognizing the cycles with every passing day
Writing full demands in the sand til the crashing waves wash it away
I watch what I say now but I hate it
Trying to make my mark, afraid of the dark nature of vague statements
That plague to vacant parking lots where shopping carts go uncollected
That sick feeling in my stomach starts to leave my heart and soul infected
I won't accept it; do my best to reject patterns til it hurts
Every second making bad turns for the worse
She's getting further away I can feel it in the way my bones ache
The ocean sealed its lips, now the waves won't break
The secrets it won't say has got us trying to break codes in churches
And lately I've been hating its soul purpose
When a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words
If a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive

[Hook]
I'm searching for a cure
This is a sickness
Can you hear me, love?

[Verse 3]
Now I look for air pockets to pick, walk with a stick, start picking locks with it
Opening up heart-shaped lockets with little arguments
Tawdry trinkets start to split and contradict
Those who say one thing but think the opposite
I bit the dust tongue kissing doc*ments in a smoke stack
Faith is harder to swallow than pride turning our throats black
I want my home back; I know that's not an available option
It's the way that I'm walking in between a cradle and coffin
That makes me pace myself; if half the battle is done right
The other half won't take my health while jacking my shadow's sunlight
To crack it open and find the space between my breaths are desolate
Life is just a lie with an "f" in it and death is definite
But after I scratched the surface
I never saw the calm before the storm act so nervous
When a boy writes off the world it's done with sloppy misspelled words
If a girl writes off the world it's done in cursive

[Hook]
I'm searching for her
Can you hear me, love?

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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