Sans Abri - Gargoyle

Half dead in a halfway house

Old man, fingerless gloves sippin' soup from a mug

Suite 5 sizes too big

Lookin' in his eyes while he has a shave

«They're gonna do a jig on my grave»

Talkin' to himself while he stays out late, past curfew

And if he stays out late then he’s stayin' out all night

Has to breathe that bear’s breath

Sees things in the leaves of the trees that aren’t even there

The spawn of despair

And there’s no convincin' him that there’s somethin' out there in the afterlife

That might rinse him, and might cleanse him

You can’t begin again *No*

You can turn a saint to a sinner, but not a sinner to a saint

This world is a mirror

Bouncin' back straight fuckery in his face

All day, every day

Hook:

The Emu, Shield and the Kangaroo

Doesn’t give a fuck about me or you

We trudge through the traps and we do what we do

Say what you say, it might get misconstrued

Some have to cop it while the rich man can sue

Four-walled box and your brain’s left to stew

I scream out loud, but they put me on mute

I leave a pile of rubble in the search for the truth

Man judges man by his actions

17 y/o needs guidance but there’s none

Dad was not like Icarus

He goes to class where he fidgets lots

Scratches his name in the desk with a 5 cent piece

Tries to catch up on a bit of sleep

Because at home, it’s fuck all like Ramsay Street

So he’s never there

Every day of the week, he’s out on the thief

He’s got a flare for puttin' stuff down where his pubes are

And walkin' straight out

And he could give a fuck about what I’m on about

Right now, the world is his cash cal

Swigs a beer, lookin' out at the park

Most people see trees and grass

He sees a graveyard

Life’s hard

Hook:

The Emu, Shield and the Kangaroo

Doesn’t give a fuck about me or you

Trudge through the traps and we do what we do

Say what you say, it might get misconstrued

Some have to cop it while the rich man can sue

Four-walled box and your brain’s left to stew

I scream out loud, but they put me on mute

I leave a pile of rubble in the search for the truth

I run through the murk like Footrot Flats in a jacket and a hat

Kicks got magnets stuck to the earth

«What's your date of birth, current address, where’ve you been tonight son?»

The wolves roll by like they’re big bad men, but they’re not

But they tell big bad lies

Put your fingers in the ink pad

I stopped askin' why

Because now I know

Hook:

The Emu, Shield and the Kangaroo

Doesn’t give a fuck about me or you

We trudge through the traps and we do what we do

Say what you say, it might get misconstrued

Some have to cop it while the rich man can sue

Four-walled box and your brain’s left to stew

I scream out loud, but they put me on mute

I leave a pile of rubble in the search for the truth

Gargoyle 2007

I.N.C.H on the production

You better listen

And we’re out