Open Up
Open up cause it's cold outside,
living in s world where the sun won't rise;
I don't wanna Walk along those lines,
whatcha gonna do when that gold don't shine?
when that soul goes blind,;
when the wrongs won't right?
when the song goes on a trek and I know that I'm alive?
this is a cause and effect
pleading for a bargain cause the lawyer's a wreck;
you better show some respect;
this is what the world hasn't grown to accept;
how are we to know when the (?) on?
they left us a mess cause they had to be gone;
listen to the critics get chatterbox friendly;
we used to play nice but we're better off deadly;
this if a family affair,
the martyr of the party when the handed me a prayer,
after this ascending they gon' have to be amazed;
forgetting what this feels like-
that would be the day...
and I naturally complained
when they fractured all the frames
so you can fasten me in place
I'm on call and they're passing me the blame
(chourus)
what will be remembered when it goes to dust?
(?)
thirsty cause you're drinking out of broken cups...
this could be dismissed if you open up.
what will be remembered when it goes to dust?
(?)
thirsty cause you're drinking out of broken cups...
this could be dismissed if you open up.
(...years trying to find WHERE to say it or WHAT to say... and then umm.
it happens in a flash, but I don't even think it matters.)
I've decided to start writing with "i";
I've conceded to stop writing with "we".
the more I read in the more I really see
how much we disagree,
the space that lay between
I really mean it;
I'm talking mountains
but I doubt you really see it
the tension mounting
the pace spins around me
I hear a sounding: so many words
but so few worth counting (me too)
guilty of a homily, running from it endlessly
what i never thought I'd be
hunting for the colony
for the worker bee gone rogue
still a Worker bee, but a long rope
so I make my song slow
make a soft sound outta hard slope
I don't know, maybe I lost my edge. .
it all depends on what you see ahead
I ain't been on the flat load in a minute
been tryna fidget for a straight out the needle hit
i could be less rigid...
but that's me
always tryna make it neat,
fold it up
the stitch don't always fit the way I want it so I let it open up
what will be remembered when it goes to dust?
(?)
thirsty cause you're drinking out of broken cups...
this could be dismissed if you open up.
open up, open up, open up (fade)
living in s world where the sun won't rise;
I don't wanna Walk along those lines,
whatcha gonna do when that gold don't shine?
when that soul goes blind,;
when the wrongs won't right?
when the song goes on a trek and I know that I'm alive?
this is a cause and effect
pleading for a bargain cause the lawyer's a wreck;
you better show some respect;
this is what the world hasn't grown to accept;
how are we to know when the (?) on?
they left us a mess cause they had to be gone;
listen to the critics get chatterbox friendly;
we used to play nice but we're better off deadly;
this if a family affair,
the martyr of the party when the handed me a prayer,
after this ascending they gon' have to be amazed;
forgetting what this feels like-
that would be the day...
and I naturally complained
when they fractured all the frames
so you can fasten me in place
I'm on call and they're passing me the blame
(chourus)
what will be remembered when it goes to dust?
(?)
thirsty cause you're drinking out of broken cups...
this could be dismissed if you open up.
what will be remembered when it goes to dust?
(?)
thirsty cause you're drinking out of broken cups...
this could be dismissed if you open up.
(...years trying to find WHERE to say it or WHAT to say... and then umm.
it happens in a flash, but I don't even think it matters.)
I've decided to start writing with "i";
I've conceded to stop writing with "we".
the more I read in the more I really see
how much we disagree,
the space that lay between
I really mean it;
I'm talking mountains
but I doubt you really see it
the tension mounting
the pace spins around me
I hear a sounding: so many words
but so few worth counting (me too)
guilty of a homily, running from it endlessly
what i never thought I'd be
hunting for the colony
for the worker bee gone rogue
still a Worker bee, but a long rope
so I make my song slow
make a soft sound outta hard slope
I don't know, maybe I lost my edge. .
it all depends on what you see ahead
I ain't been on the flat load in a minute
been tryna fidget for a straight out the needle hit
i could be less rigid...
but that's me
always tryna make it neat,
fold it up
the stitch don't always fit the way I want it so I let it open up
what will be remembered when it goes to dust?
(?)
thirsty cause you're drinking out of broken cups...
this could be dismissed if you open up.
open up, open up, open up (fade)
Credits
Writer(s): Frank Gibbs
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.