spoken word

song lyrics


poetry || photo || log

Fuelsticks pt. II

Transforming into a prince among rusty kings
my position's damaged, but my gun isn’t no dusty thing
I play, but lose if I win, since I am nothing without game
might sound strange, but we are all about change
'specially since a one is never something without its two
so, how eager are you to meet the world now this cruel?
Plastic surgery, emergency, people abusing their age
they´re hooking for change and you think it's strange?

By the way, you got that? ‘They´re hooking for change'
and the only outcome from that is looking insane
tired of simply just being fuel sticks, needing usage
all along life´s burning, can only speak into it
as you can only hear when there's no seeing through it
unimportant, if you don´t continue on being stupid.

Running out of sticks, acting like it doesn´t matter
alone at the bottom trying to climb a dozen ladders
found darkness, now consulting the root of evil
producing weapons, but weapons aren’t shooting people
people do, we make decisions silently and then deny them
we all want peace, but aren’t coming along with violence...

© Martin Ångnell 2010 - 2021