Chip The Black Boy - Gray
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{Verse 1}
Lie back, relax, unfasten your clasps. I've drawn you a nice warm bath
You’re tired and worn
Your uniform is tattered and torn
Slip into something more comfortable: a coma, a zone with a lone constable presiding over barren cotton fields littered with dented forgotten shields, dusty roads on which no one travels, gray pastures and ghosts of cattle
Sheets and shadows silently battle
Billowing pillows of fog litter the meadow
{Verse 2}
Noiselessly sauntering on a gray mare, a man with long robes and long gray hair raises a withered finger into the air, pointing at you with a cold gray stare
Baring pearly ashen teeth, he tilts back his head to unleash a stream of aphids, gnats, mosquitoes, and flies, saturating the entire sky, bombarding your nostrils, ears, and eyes
Beyond the buzzing a magpie cries, the wind blows and Odin sighs. And you will never see another sunrise
{Verse 3}
Dry rivers in which only air flows, hold fallen falcons under layers of snow
In this land, no prayers go and the mist is bound under the twilight glow
You're floating down shady creek with no oar. Sand serpents are guarding the shore. No sail nor motor on board with water seeping in through a hole in the floor
{Verse 1}
Lie back, relax, unfasten your clasps. I've drawn you a nice warm bath
You’re tired and worn
Your uniform is tattered and torn
Slip into something more comfortable: a coma, a zone with a lone constable presiding over barren cotton fields littered with dented forgotten shields, dusty roads on which no one travels, gray pastures and ghosts of cattle
Sheets and shadows silently battle
Billowing pillows of fog litter the meadow
{Verse 2}
Noiselessly sauntering on a gray mare, a man with long robes and long gray hair raises a withered finger into the air, pointing at you with a cold gray stare
Baring pearly ashen teeth, he tilts back his head to unleash a stream of aphids, gnats, mosquitoes, and flies, saturating the entire sky, bombarding your nostrils, ears, and eyes
Beyond the buzzing a magpie cries, the wind blows and Odin sighs. And you will never see another sunrise
{Verse 3}
Dry rivers in which only air flows, hold fallen falcons under layers of snow
In this land, no prayers go and the mist is bound under the twilight glow
You're floating down shady creek with no oar. Sand serpents are guarding the shore. No sail nor motor on board with water seeping in through a hole in the floor
