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Running Away

from Tales of the Troubadours by Common Labor

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lyrics

Analyrical:
I can feel the sunrise but it don't feel warm, just specs from the light bringing stress to the life
I can feel us all hope that we don't conform, but try as we might, we just peasants in line
I'm too far gone to ever think that a path is the one you should choose, we all got something to lose
All in, fallout, small grin, tall clout, big dreams, small hill, slick schemes, no chance
Both hands on the wheel, both eyes on the road. No plans for a deal, it's time that ya fold
Old man got an ear for the light side of madness
But lives knowing crazy's just a pre-paid package
Savage bastards don't give and receive
We just a gunshot away from a christmas eve
I play the part of the watcher and the critic, jotting down thoughts every 15 minutes
Killing every cynic with a self-made image
who thinks that time well spent is time well-intentioned
Y'all better never mention the name, if you think that hating cats is just part of the game.
You live in vein, you just remain a simple plain pane, shit-stain talking out his lame frame just so he can get brains
Never lived on this plain, can't really explain
How he ever made it to the peaks on this day

Hook:
Live free, Die Young
Use Z's Right Up'
Routine Line-up
True Speech dries up
we spend these days
Just Running Away

I see the sunset drawing from the peak of the mountain
Chin-Check, Respect in Equal Amounts then
I don't believe in evolution
I believe in retribution
I believe we've been deceived into our execution
Technology-phase from a polymer base
Give a pyschology face
we not a tolerant state
we just a property praise
we just a lottery stake
Just a lobotomy case
We just a lotta mistakes
Need to fix and Improve
Trying to work out the kinks
Kill the glitch in the groove
Try to build up the sphinx
Get in rich with the tunes
I can feel it slip-sink
With the switch of a mood
I can build up the tension with a wire and cold heart
State of self-prevention, can't allow ourselves to go far
So Far, So Good
We Break bread or break wood

Hook

Living One For Moment, Two For The Romance
Three For The Feeble Self-Esteem given no chance
Four for the harmony and Five For the drumbeat
Killing every dream in the scheme living monthly
6 for the Devil and 7 for the snakepit
8 for the Crazy State of Flux that we came in
9 for the best yet, 10 for the long tow
Not a dime a dozen, but we still at the crossroads

In the middle of the night we bring the civil to the light
In the dark of the clouds shoot a spark to the moon
In the middle of its flight see a symbol in its sight
Which imparts with a sound that could make God Swoon
The gossip, The ethic, The Credit, The countdown
The silence of the street that could make a party drown out
Lyrics on the page, but ideas still drawn out
All my creatures, this is nightlife crawl out
Balls out, we front on the brass
Do our night to night like we cutting the grass
Busting ass with a tongue lash fast to cut class
the crass get uprooted, the passionate run past
cuz they got nothing to lose
You either live how you want it or you suffering through
You going for the gold or you slipping on the track
But no matter where you're at you can never turn back

Hook

credits

from Tales of the Troubadours, released January 23, 2013
Guitar, Bass, Programming by Phingaz
Mixed by Phingaz
Lyrics by Analyrical
Mastered by Bob "The Pro Tools Terrorist" Lindberg

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Common Labor Minneapolis, Minnesota

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