Lyrics Linkin Park – Frgt/10
Text:
From the top to the bottom
Bottom to top I stop
At the core I’ve forgotten
In the middle of my thoughts
The picture’s there
The memory won’t escape me
We’re stuck in a place so dark
You can hardly see
The manner of matter that splits with the words I breathe
And as the rain drips acidic questions around me
I block out the sight of the powers that be
And duck away into the darkness
Times up
I wind up in a rusted world with eyes shut so tight that it blurs into the world of pretend
And the eyes ease open
And it’s dark again
From the top to the bottom
Bottom to top I stop
At the core I’ve forgotten
In the middle of my thoughts
Taken far from my safety
The picture’s there
The memory won’t escape me
But why should I care?
In the memory you’ll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up
Listen to the sound
I’m nauseated by the polluted rot that’s all around
Watching the wheels of cars that pass
I look past to the last of the light and the long shadows it casts
A window grows and captures the eye
And cries out a yellow light as it passes me by
And a young shadowy figure sits in front of a box
Inside a building of rock with antennas on top, now
Nothing can stop in this land of the pain
The sane lose not knowing they were part of the game
And while the insides change
The box stays the same and the figure inside could bear anybody’s name
The memories I keep are from a time like then
I put on my paper so I could come back to them
Someday I’m hoping to close my eyes and pretend
That this crumpled up paper can be perfect again
Yo, from the top to the bottom
Bottom to top I stop
At the core I’ve forgotten
In the middle of my thoughts
Taken far from my safety
The picture’s there
The memory won’t escape me
I’m here at this podium talking
The ceremonial offerings dedicated to urban dysfunctional offspring
What’s happening?
City governments are eternally napping
Trapped in greedy covenants
Causing urban collapsing
Bullets that scar souls with dark holes
Get more than your car stole, some parts be blacker than charcoal, for real
This society’s deprivation depends not on our differences but the separation within
No preparation is made
Limited aid, minimum wage
Living in a tenement cage where rent isn’t paid
Tragedy within a parade
The darkness overspreads like a permanent plague
I’m the forgotten
In the memory you’ll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up