Although he’s not the slickest vulture to have ever picked a carcass
He’s just the kind to catch us at our darkest
For an easy harvest
Just the kind to serve us to the markets,
Who’ll see you lose your home before his donors let him bargain
Who’ll give a cop the go-ahead to shoot you in the leg before they let you harm a Target
And being an American, I love watching garbage, but it’s overload
And this is not my first rodeo
I don’t drop mics
But I choke-slam podiums
And so we go,
Little bit of Troy, a little Roanoke
Karma, come and hold me close
And tell me how you told me so
I’m overboard, I’m blowing out,
I’m Holy Ghost.
In stolen shroud
Soaked in old petroleum and calling down the rolling clouds
Slowly move my mouth and form the only sound I knew and it was always out of tune,
But it’s the ugly fucking truth.
And now it’s flowing out
Break the banks,
Flood the basin
Transcribed a translation
Spoke it Out of morse code, straight into capsaicin
And I Hope it suits your station,
Cause it’s my last release that won’t require proof of vaccination
Got all my rates Adjusted for infection and inflation
Bloating and decay and all the perks of radiation
We see the virus for the profits, not the patients
Honey, Look at all the records set for all these corporations,
When Covid started spreading,
They were just this side of celebration,
They got One record quarter in the bag,
And now they’re all impatient
They’d rather have a toe to tag,
Than see a mouth to feed,
Or worse, a kid in need of education
And, honey, only money’s making that distinction
They’re gonna thin the herd straight through starvation to the brink of our extinction
Capitalism favors innovation
And is never at a loss for ways to make us hate our liberation.
Cloud our vision.
Somewhere in America a man with no money in the bank is on his way to city hall to go complain about proposals for a soup kitchen.
And he’ll never see the tiny bit of irony that floats in all the tragedy of his position.
And he’s not the only one, it’s an American tradition.
So it goes,
In endless perpetuity,
We’ve never deviated from the mission
I sat out the ritual and listened from the sand
Held my head between my hands,
And muttered ‘Dying would be easy,
Life’s an everyday decision’
And I’m not the only one,
It’s an American tradition
I bet you thought that Trump would go to jail
And Joe would listen
You’re not the only one
It’s an American tradition
The duo of Artist Named You and Sol Galeano present their debut together, a conceptual and adventurous modern R&B album. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 26, 2022
Three renditions of “Snowflakes in July” explore all aspects of the song’s stunning beauty, including a mind-blowing 17-minute live version. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 15, 2020