Promoe
I can’t breathe in this claustrophobic clusterfuck,
roads are congested veins, cars cut them up.
Empty you out in the streets, you a customer,
everything is for sale over here, but what’s the cost of love?
I’d really like to know cause I can’t see no friendly smiles, only empty eyes.
And I’m not saying that I really know,
but I’ve been told that our eyes is the mirror of our soul.
So I’m looking for the soul on a quest for love,
I’m searching for my roots, let me bless the drums.
I feel a link to the past and the future,
to different cultures through the blast of the music.
My only sanctuary in this corroded utopia,
I got to thank the music and the words cause when I wrote them down,
it made me feel whole, made me think less about the corrosion of my soul.

Chorus
I see through the lies,
and the shiny surface they advertise.
And how it’s gotten rotten to the core, I won’t swallow it no more,
I’m a spit it out on your folly politicians’ war on our lives.

Travis
I walk the road less traveled to the beat of my own drummer,
thinking cap backwards, winter, spring, summer.
Fall down, get up, again and then recover,
aim to ascertain and awaken from the slumber.
A cancer patient asking me to make a hopeful track,
looking in my eyes, now tell me how can I say no to that?
I told her life's a joke, it's sad that some folks will never laugh,
they took the words I spoke, and they wrote them on her epitaph.
I plot the path for the route of my plans,
without a doubt a higher power takes it out of my hands.
And if it's out of my hands, I wonder how will I stand,
the same questions being asked since the world began.
And let's face it, this place isn't all that it seems,
I’ve seen a lot of people fall trying to follow their dreams.
And when all of the leaves fall off of all of the trees,
a little piece of my shadow’s still following me.
Cause I aint any different than any other hypocrite,
a walking contradiction and here I am oblivious.
All I'm thinking about is how I'm stressed and don't make enough,
I should be giving praise every morning just for waking up.
Praise every morning, for waking up every morning.
I resisted my existence and eventually I grew to love it,
don't know how the story ends, but that's the beauty of it.

Courage
Winds of change, particles of plastic pulsing through my veins,
claims of progress, but it's mostly the same.
Contaminated cornucopia, corroded utopia,
ignorance and bliss gift wrapped with hate and xenophobia.
The third world looking outside in,
teaching the world that he who dies with the most toys wins.
An infinite budget called on for this era of indefinite wars,
but aint no food or education for the desperately poor.
Vampires in denial spend their Sundays in church,
then rape the poor and suck the blood of the Earth.
Y'all screaming politics first, they’re coming strapped with hate and Holy Quaran,
and tiny children highly gifted using firing arms.
And it's an inconvenient truth, my people put this world in a noose,
peep the lessons that we teach to the youth.
Paid off scientists disregard the obvious proof,
and cancer replicates, dying cause we poisoned our roots.