Lyrics from jehst....
Like Bekowsky the alcoholic author
Son of the devil I turn wine into water
My physical forms a metaphor for disorder
Absorb the trauma, my state is before the light
And I am short of time, short to find my keeper
Alive within reach of the reaper
The lights sleeper drifts deeper into darkness
Read my palm and see the evil of my forefather's
Born after the last generation of gypsies
Move from the sticks to the city's
Give me 26 characters for home sick travellers
Bi-centennial men, hunter gatherers
Who run with the scavengers and brave the dangers
My tongue a labyrinth in this maze of pages
Playin' David, I stand defiant to the last standing giant
The android man, I walk silent and talk science
The child who sought guidance
The war cry echoes through these blood stained empires
Like Bekowsky the alcoholic author
Son of the devil I turn wine into water
My physical forms a metaphor for disorder
Absorb the trauma, my state is before the light
And I am short of time, short to find my keeper
Alive within reach of the reaper
The lights sleeper drifts deeper into darkness
Read my palm and see the evil of my forefather's
Born after the last generation of gypsies
Move from the sticks to the city's
Give me 26 characters for home sick travellers
Bi-centennial men, hunter gatherers
Who run with the scavengers and brave the dangers
My tongue a labyrinth in this maze of pages
Playin' David, I stand defiant to the last standing giant
The android man, I walk silent and talk science
The child who sought guidance
The war cry echoes through these blood stained empires