Civil Obedience Songtext

von Sage Francis

[Sage singing in a club with the audience]
You can't kill me, motherfucker
You can't kill me, motherfucker
You may try, but you will die
You can't kill me, motherfucker

Go to bed late, then I have to wake
Get to work, keep it goin', can't stop, can't take a break
Gotta get it done, in time for me to do the things I wanna do
But by the time I finished it, it's time for me to talk to you
And then explain what I do in my day, well
It's complicated and you say, "Pray tell"
And now we'll try, if I miss any details
Think about it later and then send it in an e-mail
'Cause my brain is on a loop, but there's a buzz
That I need to troubleshoot, not now
Gotta-gotta get the work done
Last night, some other day is turnin' to the first one
I, never gonna never gonna
I, am never gonna never gonna
I, ain't gonna ever gonna die

Huh, pedal to the medal, gonna get ahead
Gonna run another red light in the dead of the night
Lettin' the light from my cellphone distract my eyes
Sexual text messagin' to my mind
Fingers are busy, but now I'm lookin' in the mirror
Cause the people behind me, they're givin' me the middle finger
I'll kill 'em if they pull up any closer to my bumper
Short-tempered mother… shut your mouth!
Drinkin' the coffee, now I'm dumpin' it out
He's honkin' his horn like "You wanna throw down?!?"
He thinks, "Oh boy, you wanna go now? I'm ready (I'm ready)"
For the typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
(di-di-di-difficult isn't it?)

I'm just a man, with a company van
And a supervisor who just does a summary scan
And a coworker who's always like "Discover me man"
In the morning we all get into the huddle again
Like "Can we even make more money?"
I wonder what the luxury is really taken from me
I don't even have to worry (ha-ha-ha-ha-hiiii)

Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedient people…
Are gonna die…
‘Cause they can't live…
My life…

All eyes on the small guys makin' small noise
In a small town with the small music men
You're just fall guys, in the law's eyes
Your voice is worth more than you know and you're not foolin' anyone
I'm not a con-artist, your pencil and promises eroding eraser tips
I'm sick of your colleges
Expensive taste-tester: “Spit that wine”
Excessive waist, chest, butt; it's that time
For me to get randomly checked again
Bored until you're marked with a blood-red pen
Water bottle sittin' in my pocket and I'm walkin' with a grin
‘Cause the liquid isn't permitted,
I'm rippin' up the ticket
For the lady at the counter as confetti in her face!
Shoulda never let me in this place
Fly, fly boy in the brownest state
I got a feeling that I'm never gonna get let out the gate ‘cause I'm the BOMB
Yeah I said it; cool, collected, and calm
Maneuver through the computer to do a little song
My music got the charm
Smoother than a cougar, attack the mic and get on the intercom

“Hello passengers, fellow activists,
Whether you're masochists, mellow pacifists
Tell those faxin' it is no accident
By the end of this record, you're gonna knowwwww”

Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedience
Typically cyclical simple civil obedient people

Are you listenin', Love? We got a 30 for us
Can you hand me enough, can you hand me my stuff?
‘Bout to move out this scary cemetery you trust
Livin' just a little bit, it isn't nearly enough
Livin' just a little bit, it isn't nearly justified
Because ah-ah-ah-I, ah-ah-ah-I am
Never gonna never gonna never gonna never gonna die

[Sage Speaking]
I wanna kee—I wanna keep making things an-and death really is-is uh not to be part of my eh-everyday activities.
It's not to be in my music anymore, I don't want it there.
It'll-it'll sneak its way in and out, but that's that's, we're beyond that.
I mean de-de-death only as a concept is what matters and-and God as a concept is-is-is one of those huge things to me.
Um, and to you, I know you, I know you much better than you think I do uhh…
I hope we meet sometime, I wouldd love to shake your hand and um maybe get a kiss, uh right there, on my face.
And uh, I don't know, maybe have sex a little bit.