WHY? - Waterlines (Official Video) descargar videos gratis

Director: Scott Fredette

Editor/ Colorist: Nate Clark

Producer: Alex Parks

LYRICS:

I'm something unheard and bound under harbor sound,

but my words are heard loud when I'm on the mound.

"...and with the vocal duress of a lone thrush in a bush..."

(that's a quote from a book of my local press push.)

The Doctor of ramble and word scramble

from the land of Procter & Gamble and cop scandals,

rockin' soccer socks and sandals like "Yeah bro!".

Talking crude a tad too verbose and way too close.

I'm Colder than most, older than the youth.

Always under oath and sober in the booth.

One man's filth is another man's truth.

Big mouth filled with one long tooth.

Do you all, when you find yourselves

in your late twenties, wanna make money?

Do you all, when you find yourselves

with three tens, you gladly ante on the wind?

The crucible's proof in fire fused --Poof!--

with a liar's views under my skirt up. Dudes,

you wanna peruse the tattoos you heard word of ?

Any excuse I can use to move my shirt off.

Girls used to fawn over my locks-to-kill. Now the

curls are gone and I'm on Minoxidil. I'm in

decline, but women, like, be jockin' still 'cause

I rhyme with skill and talk so chill and youthful.

Bird dog in the mating yard to be truthful.

'Quake '89' trading cards with me too, so

three white felt gloves are crucial; yes,

the one left, one right, one neutral.

Do you all, when you find yourselves

on stage fronting, for fame wanting?

Do you all, when you find yourselves

well known, you learn you're only more alone?

I can't sleep in rental cars or airlines, yo,

and so I keep the precious cards for downtime.

The road: another solo Christmas and Valentines--

no, it's not the hobo's wish-list I had in mind.

And when I'm free off a mission, I'm sorta like,

filled with ennui, indecision and more strife.

Life-long bouts with depression; lone fights,

down in the town of Unheaven.

I'm fine in time though, standing with the

will to start a bike uphill. With pride,

ringing the bell and riding straight outa hell. But waterlines, fine like ink from porcupines' quills,

are etched beneath my skull. But that's all.

Do you all, when you find yourselves

in the late morning, come awake yearning?

Do you all, when you find yourselves

amongst friends, attempt to blend in with the men?

I'd prefer to be some unknown with a sports car,

than pen the dumb pun poems as a poor star.

You want to just come home through a courtyard,

your son run to greet you with a perfect report card.