Cold War (Question 1)

By Protextor

On Oh! What a Miracle!

Released on September 1, 2011

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Question one:

When does love cease to be enough?

When you're beaten up

And seein' double

In the fetal position

Kickin' screamin' like a three-week-old

Speakin' up got you bleedin' but

Believe me you're

On the verge of seein' somethin'

None of us has ever seen before

And will never see again

Quit eatin' what

They feedin' us

Put down your spoon and grab a knife instead

Matta' fact go grab your nicest pen

He without vice

Can be the first to slice my neck

And so I pulled out my flaming sword

But it was just a cold war (oh lord)

So I pulled out my flaming sword

But it was just a cold war (oh lord)

No shots fired

Imaginary enemies

On the battleground

Nobody to shoot at

Just shadows now

Oh the power of imagination

The cap-gun cowboys and

Cavalries went down for the count a tragedy

And it's all for dramatic effect

To outline all the themes of the passage we read

An emotional reaction

A lapse in the laughtrack

Tune in next saturday for dramatic reenactment

And stack the bank

With impossible wealth

When they say action

I swear these models'll melt

They got the lights too bright

I mean it's hotter than hell

I fight their order with KOS:

Knowledge of self

And so I pulled out my flaming sword

But it was just a cold war (oh lord)

So I pulled out my flaming sword

But it was just a cold war (oh lord)

But I guess that it's written

There's no rest for the wicked

Resurrected pencils no

Three sevens in my hizz-ead

But I'll triple my business at blackjack

So lemme tell spit you a tale

Sit back relax

(get down to brass tacks)

Once upon a time there was an innocent boy

He was gifted with the power to enter the void

And bring back fantasies from the human mind

He would entertain your dreams long as you had time

He was true and kind

And through him much truth was given to the blind

Much room was given through

The light room for all

To be inside and find who they

Were through his ever-moving eyes

But then came along an old old man

With a long silver cane in his cold gold hands

He was no storyteller but he made a great case

That fear and love both come from the same place

He copied off the boy and he kept a straight face

And used people's hopes for p-p-paydays

We're all actors in a claymation

So when you mold yourself don't forget

You don't have to use the same clay