Cult of Ours
Ashley's projectin' that it's by design
Wake her up for that daily grind
9 to 9 still barely scrapin' by
By the straps of her boots she isn't far behind
Wearin' that collar but the color's still blue
Didn't know that she had to choose
Between speakin' her mind and stayin' in line
The politics of nature's got us far behind
They miss the signal
We turn to insult
(They own the system, we own the culture)
They miss the signal
We turn to insult
(They own the system, we own the culture)
Missy-Anne, pen in hand, ready to write
She'll be fine with just some time to learn how to strike
The embers of the struggle that are burning the trees
To shake up all the leaves she only needed to lead
Part of leading is to seeing that the path of righteous giving
Isn't meaning, isn't grieving, isn't even complex thinking
In situations most intense, a conversation's permanence
Can lead to outright foolishness on all involved. No recompense
Played with our pencils
Rewrote their rituals
(They own the system, we own the culture)
Played with our pencils
Rewrote their rituals
(They own the system, we own the culture)
Time for boss-man to get involved
This is where the line is drawn
Between the culture and the stakes
The system always keeps in place
We are just another generation
Justifying their false creation
Taught that what was done is done
But the living still die young and the knife still cuts the tongue
They miss the signal
We turn to insult
Played with our pencils
Rewrote their rituals
They own the system
We own the culture
They own the system
We own the culture
Wake her up for that daily grind
9 to 9 still barely scrapin' by
By the straps of her boots she isn't far behind
Wearin' that collar but the color's still blue
Didn't know that she had to choose
Between speakin' her mind and stayin' in line
The politics of nature's got us far behind
They miss the signal
We turn to insult
(They own the system, we own the culture)
They miss the signal
We turn to insult
(They own the system, we own the culture)
Missy-Anne, pen in hand, ready to write
She'll be fine with just some time to learn how to strike
The embers of the struggle that are burning the trees
To shake up all the leaves she only needed to lead
Part of leading is to seeing that the path of righteous giving
Isn't meaning, isn't grieving, isn't even complex thinking
In situations most intense, a conversation's permanence
Can lead to outright foolishness on all involved. No recompense
Played with our pencils
Rewrote their rituals
(They own the system, we own the culture)
Played with our pencils
Rewrote their rituals
(They own the system, we own the culture)
Time for boss-man to get involved
This is where the line is drawn
Between the culture and the stakes
The system always keeps in place
We are just another generation
Justifying their false creation
Taught that what was done is done
But the living still die young and the knife still cuts the tongue
They miss the signal
We turn to insult
Played with our pencils
Rewrote their rituals
They own the system
We own the culture
They own the system
We own the culture
Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Labarbera
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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