BUILDING BLUEPRINT

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Lyrical Analysis of...

nomadic

  1. cracked heels bleed on asphalt never cooled
  2. dust ghosts rise where last campfire got fooled
  3. horizons a liar. promises peeled, rotten
  4. this skin aint yours. just borrowed. soon forgotten.
  5. no fixed north. compass needle spinnin' sick
  6. true homes the weight of the pack, the straps thick lick
  7. saw a towns glow once. gut said "keep walkin'."
  8. their fences stank like fear, stale bread talkin'
  9. found shelter, overpass hum, piss stain dark
  10. stars aint pretty. theyree cold holes punched in the ark
  11. dawn cracks ribs open. lights a fuckin' thief
  12. exposed the raw nerve, the rootless belief
  13. met a face etched like canyon walls, dry, deep
  14. shared smoke, silent. secrets both agreed to keep
  15. eyes held maps to places blood cant reach
  16. no handshake. just a nod on the barren beach
  17. nomad, this that silk tongue bullshit, clean
  18. this is blood clot rhythm, fuckin' obscene
  19. scavenger truth gnawin' on roadside bones
  20. every step whispers "your still not home."
  21. settled folk breathe stale air, walls pressin' thin
  22. think their names carved? wind erases where theyve been
  23. their roots strangle. deep rot feeds the bloom
  24. i move light. leave only hunger in the room
  25. saw a knife flash once. moonlight on cheap steel
  26. wasnt fear that froze. was the freedom unreal
  27. no address means no chain strong enough to hold
  28. the open wounds warmer than their bought and sold
  29. this aint choice. Its the itch beneath the skin graft
  30. the constant hum sayin' "this fixed shit wont last."
  31. rest is rust. roots are graves waitin' dug
  32. the only thing planted? my fist in the mug
  33. footprints fade fast where the hardpan meets the scrub
  34. the only true mark the fuckin' permanent grub
  35. of miles in the marrow, the sun scorched retreat
  36. nomad just dust that refuses to settle. defeat?
  37. nah. still breathin'. still walkin'. still sharp as the knife
  38. that carves nothin' permanent... except this fuckin' life.
  39. the next ridge calls. empty canteen slaps the thigh
  40. Identitys written in dust script, fucked and dry

Lyrics added by wasp

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