Some Sort of Justice - Omar Rodríguez-López

Blue eyes has given me his?

Tall hands and black poems in his head.

Father spoke comfort break me,

but all this sound should turn me down.

My head melts tight from lack of sense.

A thought disease that you have gave.

Father spoke comfort break me,

but all this sound should break me down.

But don’t think for one moment that life wont find a way.

You keep on making the same mistakes.

and crossing the river you bury your tail deep in my back.

Was it my, my mistake, if I knew you’d make.

The time you cut now starts to

speak.

And soon your mouth wont have a say.

Father spoke comfort break me,

but all this sound should turn me down.

Don’t think for one moment that life wont find a way.