Artist: Vents Album: Marked for Death Song: The Unliving Typed by: newos_crib_is@hotmail.com [Vents] Migraine pound in my brainstem, Vents drown in the mayhem Life and love is found down in the basement Down in the pavement, buried deep Television and a plywood box help me sleep Don't live, I consume, like sit in my room I mean sit in the womb, from the pits and the doom Watching channel one, everybody else having fun And celebrity worship, my purpose is none I'm the Babylonian one that burn in the sun Stay clean, terrified of the germs and the scum Rock a condom, girls terrified of the cum Zombie man that metabolise minds of the young They commodified life, guess I'm trying to die Ain't the blast of the gun, it's the size of the lie It's the eye in the sky that makes sure you do what you're here for Feeding me the filth that I cheer for [Chorus] Now, everybody get the fuck on the couch Nobody talk, not another word out your mouth Let it laugh for ya, cry for ya, even live life for ya Get away to Dubai for ya Everybody to the back of the bus No eye contact, stop chatting with us Get to work, get to home, get to winding down Get to sleep, then lie on the ground [Vents] Now come, run with the rats in the sewer Dressed in the best shit, covered in manure I'm suffering, they muttering sweet nothings in my ear, get ahead brother, keep shoving Don't show 'em that you're weak, blood, keep bluffing Best years of your life in the mines, be something Done all for the cash and all you could spend and a fat body-bag in the end The madness begins with my birth and it finish with my corpse From the very first flirt to your bitter divorce From your very first hit to the criminal thoughts From your very first porn till you sit in the courts for your kids, one weekend, leaving them half of your pain and your hate, and the keys to the car Take two, then breathe, then pass Then fix them scars on your soul, in the dark and the cold [Chorus] [Vents] Started off as a teen, my desire is a marketing scheme Snort coke off of silicone, sample the dream Self-esteem is a brand new car away Short temper, call centre, chained half a day You gotta jump when the master say Wear a mask for the gaze of the Other in the masquerade My best mate passed away, needle in the arm Didn't cry, I believe that at least he found calm Got charm and charisma, but no love or compassion Starved for affection, I'm smashing my glass in your smart-arse grin Funny how a few drinks turn you to a hard-arse crim Nice guys can't win, kindness is an affliction that persist in the minds of the victim Money for sex and money for love Man is dead, truth is dead, nothing above [Chorus]