Are we so alone?

[ZombieNixon]

Are we so alone?
So distant, so forgotten?
As we think ourselves to be?
These are our lives
But did they ever even matter?
Are we worth remembering?

CHORUS:
These machines, fueled on the tears
Of broken lives and dying dreams
We're throwing wrenches inthe gears
Our lives will not be lived in vain
When this is all said and done
We spent this life on the run
Judged by the company we keep
Our language buried inside
These lungs that keep us alive
We breathe so selfishly

Promises we plan to break
Are made in whispered voices
'Cause our despair knows many names
We make mistakes
But we apologize with roses
We never stopped to smell along the way

CHORUS

We fell from the sky today
We melt into balls of clay
We seel ourselves everyday
Don't tell me how to live this way

Pushed so far to the egde
We teeter just on the brink
You can lead me to the bloodbath
But you can't make me drink

As these machines, fueled on the tears
Of broken lives and dying dreams
We're throwing wrenches inthe gears
Our lives will not be lived in vain

Our lives will not be lived in vain!

-Rise Against, "Tip the Scales"

***

One of my few and only song lyric threads...forgive me...drunk and pissed. (:beer: :grr:)

:hi:

[LeftyMom]

1. That whole CD's good stuff.

:D

[ZombieNixon]

2. I knew you'd find this thread!

:D

:headbang:

[LeftyMom]

3. Quick, guess who else is 100% sure to post here

:rofl:

[ZombieNixon]

4. Naah, I prefer to keep things mysterious.

:silly:
:rofl:

[Ava]

5. oh my god, that song is so similar to this one!

Hello, world, here the song that we're singin'
C'mon get happy!
A whole lot of lovin' is what we'll be bringin'
We'll make you happy!

We had a dream, we'd go travelin' together,
We'd spread a little lovin' then we'd keep movin' on.
Somethin' always happens whenever we're together
We get a happy feelin' when we're singing a song.

Trav'lin' along there's a song that we're singin'
C'mon get happy!
A Whole lot of lovin' is what we'll be bringin'
We'll make you happy!
We'll make you happy!
We'll make you happy!


:rofl:

[ZombieNixon]

6. If by "similar" you mean "completely different," then yes.

:P

[Ava]

7. well of course that's what i ment!

psh! that's what i get for trying to cheer you up! :P

[ZombieNixon]

8. A :P smiley?

Of course! :P

[flvegan]

9. If you like that, then

check these (btw, nice choice ZN) :

From "Blood-Red, White and Blue"
would God bless a murder of the innocents?
would God bless a war based on pride?
would God bless a money-hungry government? no.

would God bless our ineffective court system?
God bless the sweatshops we run.
would God bless Amerika?
God bless Amerika.

From "State of the Union":
'Guilty' is what our graves will read,
no years, no family, we did
nothing (nothing) to stop the murder of
a people just like us

And my favorite, "Black Masks and Gasoline"
Simply because you can breathe,
doesn't mean you're alive,
or that you really live.
this life has taken it's toll
and she just doesn't know,
how much more she can give

But here, at the top of the world, where I raise my hands and I clench my fists,
they stand before me below, demanding the answers with flips of a switch

I don't understand where you got this idea,
so deeply engrained in your head
(that this world) is something that you must impress,
cause I couldn't care less

A need for revolution's rising, it comes to the surface, gasping for air,
we're not putting up with this planet one more day much less one more year

I don't understand where you got this idea,
so deeply engrained in your head
(that this world) is something that you must impress,
cause I couldn't care less

So here and now, in our rotting nation
the blood, it pours, it's all on our hands now
we live, in fear, of our own potential
to win, to lose, it's all on our hands now

And I have an American Dream,
but it involves black masks and gasoline,
one day I'll turn these thoughts into screams,
at a world turned its back down on me

I don't understand where you got this idea,
so deeply engrained in your head
(that this world) is something that you must impress,
cause I couldn't care less

[ZombieNixon]

10. Own 'em all.

:D

Just happened to be the song I was listening to at the time. :thumbsup:

[flvegan]

11. Then you've probably noticed

my sig. You should head to your gnutella client and search "Rise Against" live and video. Small club vids there, and though the music isn't as good as it could be (poor acoustics, recording equipment, etc), Ian is still f'ing crazy on it.

Best band in the world, to me.

Well, Beastie Boys aside.

[Briarius]

12. Hey you

Hey you, out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old
Can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?
Hey you, don’t help them to bury the light
Don’t give in without a fight.

Hey you, out there on your own
Sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?
Hey you, with you ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I’m coming home.

But it was only fantasy.
The wall was too high,
As you can see.
No matter how he tried,
He could not break free.
And the worms ate into his brain.

Hey you, standing in the road
Always doing what you’re told,
Can you help me?
Hey you, out there beyond the wall,
Breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?
Hey you, don’t tell me there’s no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall.

[Swede]

13. Destination

Our instruments have no way of measuring this feeling
Can never cut below the floor, or penetrate the ceiling.
In the space between our houses, some bones have been discovered,
But our procession lurches on, as if we had recovered.

Draconian winter unforetold.
One solar day, suddenly you’re old.
Your little envelope just makes me cold,
Makes destination start to unfold.

Our documents are useless, or forged beyond believing.
Page forty-seven is unsigned, I need it by this evening.
In the space between our cities, a storm is slowly forming.
Something eating up our days, I feel it every morning.
Destination, destination.

It’s not a religion, it’s just a technique.
It’s just a way of making you speak.
Distance and speed have left us too weak,
And destination looks kind of bleak.

Our elements are burned out, our beasts have been mistreated.
I tell you it’s the only way we’ll get this road completed.
In the space between our bodies, the air has grown small fingers.
Just one caress, you’re powerless, like all those clapped-out swingers.
Destination, destination.