Target Practice - No Bird Sing

Face to the window, back to the wall

Ink to a dry page, yield to the sign

Mummy in the casket, Pharoah will evolve

Genie in the bottle, and I’m running out of time

Lines in the sand, hands of a mime

Thoughts that we make from the past we define

I don’t need a gunshot, I just need a trigger (uh)

Finger to my chest, fell in love that way

Stuck until I broke it off

Samsara, find another heart to cross and make it soft

Karma is the shot and the target too

Darkened room gets illuminated soon as the eyes open

The market’s doomed

Heavy eyelids fed sedative diets, bred for compliance

Dead to rights, quick to deny it, make it hard to prove

Solutions shine elusive in the future

Thick behind the dust cover, the suffering we’re used to

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

All I hear are gunshots

All I hear are gunshots

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

All I hear are gunshots

All I hear are gunshots

Why does one man have more beds than he can sleep in?

Where’s the line between competition and preying on peoples' weakness?

When did truth become a sequel?

What’s a starving mouth to say to the land that fed his family for generations

then degraded to chemical sand?

How could a conscious mind find relief when it’s come to believe that violence

is a marker along the path to peace?

Why is advertisment good?

Propaganda bad?

Insatiable desire, painting lines inside my lonely head

Learned behavior, trance fix, robotic captain sinking ship

Limbic system, bored with primal impulse, cut the wire

Trip an ego domino effect, letting go, distorted breath

Less amused with my regret, more intuned mindfulness

The time it takes to think my way out of this empty feeling

I will choose to fill my being with the beauty that consumes me

I ruined what confused me, became new

Started being me by doing, every day’s my funeral

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

All I hear are gunshots

All I hear are gunshots

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

All I hear are gunshots

All I hear are gunshots

Truth is simple, no lies, metals bloom, men’ll die

Metal tubes will fly into the sky and who knows what they’ll find

Satisfaction killed the cat, bottle time, this is that

I don’t need a gunshot, I just need a goal to chase

And I won’t say that I know the way, or how to mold the clay

Or control the rain, I just rode the train when I was told to stay

So I fold and pray until I’m old and grey

So how much of my emotional state do I contribute to the things that I do?

Providing a sense of security, death to the purity

Guiding my higher brain through the mazes

Every habit I blindly created when I was awake

Is a testament I use as evidence to support changes

That I make in my life to see order in chaos and accept the pain waves

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I keep hearing gunshots

I keep hearing gunshots

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

I don’t need a gunshot

All I hear are gunshots

All I hear are gunshots