[Intro: Sample]

(Why don't you look at your own garden? flowers all over

Trees to sit under. Maybe you look for paradise. Remember... it's not at the neighbors. Cultivate, it is yours.)

[Verse 1: Deca]

Driftwood down the river styx

One side's scorched earth the other side's triple six

Which way to go from here, to flip a switch and strip away the old veneer emerging from a cave-like chrysalis

We sit and watch snakes slither off a grifter's lips

One day it's Herculean feats the next Sisyphus

Earth angels sending signs, letters sealed with a kiss

Assurance that it all will work out, the sky's limitless, you get the gist

Dismissed as riff raffle and rabble

While rousers in the midst practice witchcraft in babble

Galactic motherships, magic tricks, astral travel

Had to scratch the itch and went and bit Adam's apple

Gather up your wits we battle with casted shadows

In chapel perilous they're pulling rabbits outta black holes

Maverick with a bic master cheffing at the expo

Grab my oven mitts, season up the dish and presto

[Chorus: Deca]

Light blue Abel, blood red Cain

Raindrops and violent flames

Times have changed

He held his head in shame and fled the scene after

Driven from the yellow grain and emerald green pastures

It's knives at dusk or pistols at dawn

I hear the propagandist sing the same dissonant song

The theme music for the kamikaze mission we're on

To strip the planet of it's riches til the gettin is gone

[Verse 2: Deca]

Bread alone won't suffice, burning candle sticks at both ends

Holding mics since I was shoulder height to Gary Coleman

The goal's been the same since, to scope the whole terrain

Taking note on everything observed to ease the growing pains

On city blocks at night you hear the sound of ghostly chains

On desolation row they're roasting over open flames

On everything that's holy and sacred my hope remains

Redemption songs are like an antidote to poking veins

Sometimes I over do it, spill guts like Tetsuo

Desperate for a world that's less brutal

Hoping that the future holds, fewer weapons forged in the crucible

Beat em' into plowshares to till soil

Plant seeds and watch em' grow

Strong bough's and branches where the birds sit

Grandeur that a camera can't capture but picture perfect

No statues of dead warlords caked in bird shit

More wrenches in machines attempting to fry their circuits

[Chorus: Deca]

Light blue Abel, blood red Cain

Raindrops and violent flames

Times have changed

He held his head in shame and fled the scene after

Driven from the yellow grain and emerald green pastures

It's knives at dusk or pistols at dawn

I hear the propagandist sing the same dissonant song

The theme music for the kamikaze mission we're on

To strip the planet of it's riches til the gettin is gone

(Look at you! Beautiful strength. Why not try?)

(What is red? A Poppy's red in it's barley bed

What is blue? The sky is blue where the clouds float through)