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Mob Law

from From Inner Space by End Wave

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lyrics

So I pace back and forth in my living room
waiting for the heat of all these things to hit me soon,
As my stomach feels all churned up by my twisted world
I've pressured myself over some very impressive girl.
Every single day I've been in this sort of rhythm,
where I can't pick up on anything that I've been given
that I asked for, and should I mention,
there's hardly even any competition? Oh wait,

Just a second, I can recall all the times that lack of money
kept me from picking up my dreams as my mouth was running,
and it's kind of funny looking back at my pocket check,
I gotta get my big bad practice habits back.
I had a small bag, a little stash sack,
You know I couldn't wait to get the grass back,
and then fall off and sleep in ditches,
I can't breathe 'cuz I swim with the fishes.

Someone in this room saw
the clickity clickity clock
goin' tick tick tick,
You listen to the end and
that'll do the trick.
It's a long wait,
I've lost my way.

How many times have I come up with nothing and
stunningly given away all my cunning and
run from east to west with leggy,
never impressed when the petting gets heavy?
We ain't go no symmetry, I don't feel no sympathy,
Ain't nothin' goin' on here between you and me.
Maybe I'm too poor for my neighborhood,
Maybe you're too dull to be brainwashed,
Maybe you're too smart for my own good,
I feel a little too good for my own god.

Oh snap, the bank's got my numbers and
my credit all shredded up I'll never get 'em back,
So I'll wait six or seven months to get back in the system
Until I stop feeling dumb and that's when they come.
Somebody better drive me to the car park,
I'm waitin' for the red and blue lights to drop off,
And now it looks like we're lost in the wrong lot,
here comes a raving mad junk yard dog!

(Chorus)

credits

from From Inner Space, released December 1, 2012
Production, Lyrics, Guitar: Joe G.
Bass Guitar, Trumpet: John A.

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End Wave Austin, Texas

In the land of mix tapes, where short attention spans and flashy passing fads are all the action, End Wave hammers out futuristic music, waiting to be burned onto the brain of tomorrow's new iUnit.

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