Lyrics:
the West Coast
As I watch you leave, it's gettin' hard to breathe
No this ain't how it was suppose to be
While you're out chasin' all your dreams
Tell me
The sea met the sunset
In the shades of a bruise
Burnt out from another day
Of American news
I took your hand
As we walked into the dark
Left those
away from ham like Abraham, Lord I follow you
Even when you took my man Chaka God and what I'm a do
You gave the hood a modern day martyr in Brother
know
I don't want the American dream
I just go by day by day, baby
Feel so alone sometimes
And I don't know why
But when I look into the sky
And I see
again
The super dooper trooper, maneuver of smooth wrapped it
Boo had it, the true jacket, blue patches
Lie those V-Bombers, now I got three commas
By
the dawn's intentions away
Dead American dream
Place the survivors on suicide watch
Is it bitter to know you will leave this rock by your own doing?
Summons
American Dream
Think I was born with these poor man blues
Sometimes I wonder about people like you
Handin' down orders, sit back, and watchin' us do 'em
Always
The Ink Spots
Written by Irving Berlin
This version not released as a single
Five versions charted in 1926, two in 1944, and two more in
the light o' day or under the peak-faced moon;
In cabin or dance-hall, camp or dive, mucklucks or patent shoon;
On velvet tundra or virgin peak, by glacier,
birds kissing
I'm sick of all this money somebody call a physician in
The American dream I'm with niggas is visioning
You clowns ain't making it rain
She takes me by the hand
And tells me where to stand
She tells me shoot some cans
I said, "Americans?"
Look at them sleep, man
The day went kinda
(yea)
Came from not having a lot (uh)
Want my American pie (pie)
Rich black arrogant guy (guy)
Burn you, don't play with the fire (fire)
Know you get
I must be crazy now
Maybe I dream too much
But when I think of you
I long to feel your touch
To whisper in your ear
Words that are old as time
guy by day (unnuh hear me?)
And crucify dem by night
And every dubplate we play
Is gonna be awful and bright
And if it's all night
We're gonna
before
Faded days of my memory
Paper dreams of things I didn't do
Three years back, oh 1962
In the wheel and spin
You just breathe again
All right
the knapsack, headed straight outta town
Now, three days pass I'm still on the strip
Doing hand to hand with twelve collapsible, stashable clips
With little
aches every now and then
Even behind all of that American Denim
Checks on his neighbors, left his dreams all behind
To fight in a war that was neither
now, dream now, anything you need now
A little more time and then the day begins to break again
But some will sleep in the back seat, some will look
into a GIF or a meme
The kids ain't alright so it seems
Horror story the American teen
Wake up kid this isn't a dream
Addicted to staring at screens
dreams, and grieves it
All the while asking what's next in this harrowing journey
Strapped to the task of a desk-popping wheelies in a gurney
That ride will
"And now, And now, And now!
Comes my favorite part.
This is the part where
I get to expose myself,
to... Cleveland.
All my hopes, fears,
dreams
like, something about it having to stop
The way I'll get around that is by going back to these
Fragments of time
Yes, yes exactly these fragments,
Night blows, stoves don't work, hoes at work
A warrior, so I wear 'em on my shirt
Wish I was free as Che was, I spend a day buzzed
Tripping
In an American Apparel v-neck
You had acid under your tongue
Choked up by the strobe light
On the the edge of 21
Parachuting to your town
Oh no my
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