Mysterious psychedelia plus Orwellian esoterica = Sixstep jamming at its finest; featuring Randy C. Johnson, Jr. (keys (solo))
Charts #521 in subgenre today
Previous peak charts position #333
Music by Jason Glen Peed; Lyrics by Al Rahn & JGP
Sixstep 2009 All Rights Reserved
December 31, 2009
When judgment day comes and the meter's still running, Will the things you're left wanting for be your undoing? As your last tower crumbles and a plague infects your legacy You worked it out all too well, a damn shame no one else could see.
A campaign of deception turns your best friend to a whipping boy, An Orwellian fog to kill the light of hope and change and simple joy. Left again with the chance to choose the lesser of two evils, Another eight years is too long to be a sequel.
And so we move on in this New World Order You gotta give it all up just to feel like you're free. It may look good on paper, but it sounds like sh** to me.
So the world is now one, but the engine's still running And for the last scrap of earth the last gunners still gunning. Is it your hope as their flesh goes to waste That their bodies will fossilize and give you more dirty paste? Pumping our way through the twenty-first century, A culture so myopic now that only rich men can see The wars that we're waging no battle can determine Just so long as there's a foe to f*** , an Arab, Jew, or German.
and so we move on in this New World Order, a total disregard for the human condition. we are Rockefeller's slaves, and he don't need our permission.
At last judgment day comes and the ticker's barely running Still even your harshest critics begin succumbing, (Or at least disappearing and leaving no trace behind ? A single click can rub 'em out, a most ingenious genocide) And everyone else is content where they are in life,
A steady job with steady pay and good tv, good car, good wife, Whose every last cent goes to your corporation, The only one left in this once capitalist nation, That supplies all the petroleum, all the paper, all the presidents And maintains that we've still got our choice, though choice is now irrelevant, Is it then on that final day you'll ask yourself why?
As you look out from the precipice and realize you're gonna die, Will you weep for the world 'cause there's nothing left to conquer Or weep for yourself because you know you don't belong here? The world was still one long before you came and messed with it. Your time is gone, you're obsolete, I think you know the rest of it.
And so we?re moving on from this New World Order. It's really too bad there's no such thing as hell. You could make a pretty penny if you had a soul to sell!