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BURNT BY THE SUN LYRICS
"Soundtrack To The Personal Revolution" (2002)
1. Dracula With Glasses
2. Soundtrack to the Worst Movie Ever
3. Dow Jones and the Temple of Doom
4. Boston Tea-Bag Party
5. Shooter McGavin
6. Mortimer
7. Don Knotts
8. Famke
9. Human I Steamroller
10. Rebecca
1. Dracula With Glasses
I'm Staring into the sun, waiting for it to fall down.
I've collapsed over this madness.
My hair has been pulled out. I've tried, but to no avail.
me is resting. I Finish.
Words cannot convince the mind when I can't believe my eyes.
Who am I kidding? I am dreaming.
My Time is clocked in once and for all.
All over again.
I told myself it could not fall.
But you are here as clear as the day.
It's as clear as a star on my wrist.
So long, loneliness, my love.
What you see when you look down at the star on my wrist
is what I've always hoped I'd find.
And it blows my mind.
2. Soundtrack to the Worst Movie Ever
I'm walking through the door
and I know what i'm going to see once I get around the bend.
I know what I'm going to get through the wall after one hour has passed.
The door will slam.
I know who's car is going to take off after that.
Stone wall, your vice.
No ear for advice.
Stoned at the wall.
Hearts down.
Straight up.
This is your life.
What's come of your life?
Destroy your mind.
Push back from life.
Well, your dark room is luminous,
when you give yourself a chance.
When you step back from all this madness.
Step back madness.
I know your head is ready to explode.
I can see it in your eyes.
Your heart has died.
Your will has been erased.
Motivation displaced.
And this is how the story will end.
NO good will ever come of it. No.
Unless you realize you're selling yourself short.
A fine heart marked down.
And you cheapen it day by day.
Unless you realize you're selling yourself short.
And you cheapen it day by day
3. Dow Jones and the Temple of Doom
Consume. Defecate. Consume again.
Hollow and empty. Consume.
And this is where we're at.
Running in reverse.
I'll tell you what you need to be through what you own.
Through what controls your mind, your life.
Define yourself in my holy image.
The things you own end up owning you.
A seance of aesthetic brotherhood.
Fortitude not for the good for your soul
>From IKEA nesting, to sound investing,
to temp jobs that define what we are.
A dime a dozen, hope is dead.
Work towards nothing.
Groth means nothing if it defines human life by what you can buy.
Give up your life.
Or what is left of your life.
Give up you life. Let go. I'm losing it.
I'm pulling my hair out tring to figure out what couch defines me as a
person?
This is madness. This is hopelss.
My perfect little habitat and I still don't know myself.
Hope is sold in your head.
Residing in your head.
Existing only in your head.
Working for the economy.
But is this working for you?
You're running stride is just to keep the pace.
AND I WATCH THIS BURN YOU ALIVE.
Burn you alive. Burn your life. Bury you life.
You are all my children now.
Consumption: identity.
Function: Consuming again
4. Boston Tea-Bag Party
And now I'm getting bored of laughing out loud.
We wear ego like a shroud.
And we won't shut up.
Yeah, we've got it figured out this time, we're sure.
Indecision blessed.
Put our minds to rest, onto the next term.
November 7th was just another day for the world to laugh.
It was just more of the same.
The game being played shut out (shut out) the voices of sanity.
Exit concept of reason.
They shut it down.
We watched them shut it down.
They shut it down once again.
Shut down. They shut it down. Shut Down.
We let them. ( We let them shut it down)
Let's look at the facts: we're sidetracked by how much we're being taxed.
What little regard we have for human life.
We fight for the scraps and blame the poor.
All the while our future is bought and paid for.
Who manipulates the economy?
And so the story goes.
Don't let your mind be guided by who you vote for,
because chances are you don't know what's in store.
Whats in store?
5. Shooter McGavin
And this is where I'm supposed to be impressed, isn't it?
Let me tell you how overwhelmed I am.
Remind me to be in awe of you.
Remind me to lie. Remind me to smile.
Remind me to do anything but to express what's on my mind.
Because the truth might shake your stable ground.
You know this show is dark and drab,
and what you're saying doesn't brighten things much.
I don't care how fucking great your band is.
"You're so good. You're a god. I'm so impressed of what you've become."
I would be pleased if it meant something real to you.
Just walk away.
This is image and from my angle what you're doing doesn't blow my hair back.
No, I'm not moved. No reason to pay it any mind.
I don't care. I'd be pleased if it was something real to you.
But intil then I don't care. I don't care.
No reason at all for me to waste my time. None.
6. Mortimer
I'm afraid you failed this term.
We can meet again on my terms.
You don't quite make the grade.
Your pleas, your opinions do not mean a thing.
You preen yourself in the eyes of all.
One call and it all comes down.
Your insolence. Your world of you.
One call and we'll watch it come down.
(One call and we'll watch it all come down).
I swear I'll make that call.
I swear- Nothing makes sence like nonsence.
It this life, you are kind, Bumbled, not.
What you've got to give is not what I want to receive.
Seven years to forgive?
I'll give you seven seconds to get out.
You gave me seven years of neglect.
I'll give you seven seconds to get out. (today).
It doesn't work that way. It doesn't work.
I've left you behind liek a fucking ticket
and that shit is never getting paid. Never
7. Don Knotts
I can still hear the frea behind your last gasp,
even above the flat slaps of my thumbs against this desk.
You take a moment to rewind in your mind:
if only you hadn't opened that hole beneath your nose.
I'm talking to a walking wall following a faulted call.
Hatred twisted your mind backwards so you suffer the truth.
In your mind you prevail.
Standing the test of tests.
By blind reflex I accept yuour challenge.
Argumentative vein, anger mantained.
My response is to let no jab go restrained.
Stand behind what you've said that's made this room grow dim
and what's made my eyes turn red.
Mind to mind, I know your kind.
Try and convince me that you're right because your skin is white.
( Let's enter your mind).
Let's see what you can do. Let's see.
(My standards are high. I will expect a whole lot from you. But you're not
what you think.)
Men like you made the sky turn red.
(This smells like failure. What a wast of time.)
Men like you mad the sky turn red.
(Can't you smell it- it's as thick as life.)
And this won't be the last time.
8. Famke
I picked it up. I held it. I threw it away. I strayed.
By far one of the dumbest things I've done to myself.
No embracement of the truth, it's gone.
Progress unwound. Ideals shut down.
Pin it on me. Take me away.
I'm guilty as charged. You can call out.
This is my forceful vice struggling to gain some life.
Sometimes when you live with something for so long you can't break it,
can't put it down, can't walk away.
Beauty in my mind defined by images shot into my mind.
Brain scan. Observe the man I am.
Look at my hands. I'm trembling at the mistakes I live.
One day I'm awake. The next day I'm dead.
This is not real. This I know.
But it calls on me. How does this work?
It's so fucking twisted. It takes me away.
It sweeps me off my feet. I know how this goes.
I've dealt with this before. Day one, liquify my life.
Take my insides out. Hang them on a wall.
The beauty. Self-security works itself into a hole.
But I can feel the cold from here.
And I know it's cold.
Blisters ravaged my life.
The life that I claimed back.
Turned it around
9. Human I Steamroller
This is the soundtrack to your life.
This is where it all begins.
Your conscience tried.
Your conscience has failed.
You're going nowhere fast.
Another track pleace.
On the wrong track, step back please.
You're going nowhere fast.
Another track please.
Another Monday, another week of hell.
And it means little to you.
If anything at all.
And it says even less of you.
This is the sound of the rest of your life.
This is the soundtrack to the rest of your life
and it's ending one track at a time.
Disrobe the occupant of your mind.
Reclaim your life.
Opening your eyes is one of the hardest things to do.
But it's your life.
40 hours a week and nothing to show.
40 hours a week and no way to grow.
Is this all that you're fucking made of ?
Slave away. Meaningless.
I know you're more than this
10. Rebecca
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