1. |
Crimson Smoke
04:45
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You take my will and pride
What’s left? What’s left?
You aim to slow my stride
What’s left?
You say I’m gonna leave
You behind
What’s left? What’s left?
You’re right
Crimson smoke
Through my arms and legs
Can’t carry the weight
Not for your sake
You mask your sorrows
In an orange bottle
What’s left?
Holding hostage thoughts of anger
What’s left?
You look to parasites to find your fix
What’s left? What’s left?
You're right
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2. |
Tree of Doubt
04:55
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Hold out your naked palms
And close your hands around
The doubt that stained these walls
And plant it in the ground
It will sprout a tree with black leaves
Paint the forest in disease
Shroud the fallen in misfortune
With no room for you to breathe
An empty page is not defeat
It’s a veiled opportunity
Avoid the throbbing drone
That tells you you’re alone
Confidence is free
Get up on your feet
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3. |
B.L.T.B.
06:16
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Ain’t no benefit to being afraid
Or punishments if you misbehave
Bruised legs that walk off the day
Ain’t no medicine for being afraid
All this time it’s been the…
A tattered dress tells tall tales
To a jury of scares
Tired eyes behind the disguise
Few care if you’re in the gutter or otherwise
All this time it’s been the
Blind leading the blind
Lights out
Alleyways
Garbage strewn about
Muffled disputes
And angry cars
Violence seeks other violence
Tolerance begs to be forgotten
Swollen ankles pray to be forgiven
Tolerance begs to be forgotten
Burning bright
A working girl in paradise
Guiding light
A working girl in paradise
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4. |
Hours Believe
05:11
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The position shifted
A watery mouth
The veil is lifted
Going south
Sugar for the flies
The host is shy
Urges rush heavy
And comfort says goodbye
You’ve got the wind knocked out of you
Now we have the burden of proof
Take your time, get back up
At your knees
The hours believe
You made it up
The speech is cryptic
In all accounts
The secrets wilted
Without a doubt
Sugar for the flies
A watery mouth
In all accounts
Temptation sits
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5. |
The Fawn
04:27
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I play the role of the sufferer
Never the role of the caregiver
Baiting myself for capture
There is no slave without a master
I am the fawn
Pull out the stitches ever so slowly
Numbing the nerves
Keeping me holy
Take off the blindfold
And let me see
All of the things that I’ve done to me
I am the fawn
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S.L.A.M. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
S.L.A.M. is a four-piece band from Philadelphia formed in 2012. For fans of artists ranging from Queens of the Stone Age and The Mars Volta to the likes of Sam Cooke and Bill Withers, S.L.A.M. is known for dynamic song writing and pushing the relationship between rhythm and melody. ... more
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