BlackBoxWarrior - cover, again скачать в хорошем качестве

BlackBoxWarrior - cover, again

Happy fifth birthday, Normal Album! This is my favorite Normal Album song so I decided to give it a re-do. I'm about as happy with this one as I was with the old one at the time, but I think this one is much better. I especially enjoy how much my characters have grown. The little rascals of course being Simon on the left and Dr. Mal Practice on the right, though Simon wasn't in my original cover. It was sort of a POV though... so maybe Simon was actually you, the viewer. original:    • BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA   tutorial: https://tabs.ultimate-guitar.com/tab/... my art:   / funky.s.art   my discord server:   / discord   lyrics: (there's exactly one change. did you notice it?) Well, he collapsed with Stevens-Johnson syndrome on the ER floor Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic Well, the way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges Roman candles at both ends in his synapses And the method with which he recycled his humors Trojan horse'd his blood-brain barrier and raised the LD50, yes, yes And through flight-or-fight revelation shame, the Black Box Warrior He skipped this town and headed straight down history Shields himself from reason in a Kevlar baby-blue tuxedo Quilted from the finest fibers, flesh and fiberglass and flowers Ego a mosquito, evil incarnate/good incognito Pops placebos for libido, screaming "bless the torpedoes" For what? For what? For what it's worth If it was gonna kill you, boy, it would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down Well, he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose Around his Lotus jugular when they came Well, they found him with a map to every victim of his love And a tattoo of a raven on his face And they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry A hymn out in Hungarian harmonic But he cocked his noggin, through his stoma sang, "For Auld Lang Syne Happy birthday to the succulents, I'll die your hydroponics" His rib cage was a hornet's nest, palpitations set the beat His vagus nerve a Turk's head knot, an axle hitch, a Carrick bend He wondered if Christ-Consciousness would charge a cancellation fee Auf wiedersehen, au revoir, he gripped his wits right by their ends For what? For what? For what it's worth If it was gonna kill you, boy, it would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down Hello, welcome. Why don't you take a seat? Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to. Now what's bothering you? Well, why don't we start at the beginning? Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence? Did you have xenon orchid sinews spilling down the outer center of your blooming Escher/Mandelbrot head? And how about claustrophilic tendrils clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckled thumbs, did you get along well with the Gideon Bugler pineal glands, your projector eyes casting sci-fi's on your STR'd strands? Tell me about your nerve to steal nerves of steel from under Bacchus' bloody nose. Did Namibian Himbas tie-dye you, your ears pierced with a Phineas Gage flagpole, did you die before your day? Thursday traction, Tuesday titration. My hope is to assess through my objective report of your subjective conjecture whether this proprietary blend of expertise and seasoning works as well as this transorbital ice pick Holistic ballistics, got a better idea? It's about the best we could come up with. What, you think ideas spread because they're good? No, they spread because people like them. So here we are once again. Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror I guess it's just something people do A bloody knife to split your infrastructure, wine to rev your motor function Coital machinations of the dead Well, you mainline your animus, karate chop your abacus And learn to be an animal instead But I never did think you better than this, your modus operandi Causes Nazi/Skoptzyism and suicide Why to thine own self be true when it is you who are the problem Not the things you do, but something sick inside Lithium and dialectics, boy, you really is defective CBT don't seem effective for that Cluster B, accept it Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects You've lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you'll be fine For what? For what? For what it's worth If it was gonna kill you, boy, it would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back And why would you want to look back? I mean, it's no good looking back So try to look forward now For what? For what? For what it's worth If they were gonna get you, boy, they would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down