Category: 1997

Wakka Chakka
by Singer on September 15, 1997 in 1997, Garage, Recordings, Songs
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I believe in prophesy.
I can show you all that there is to see.
Do you know anything,
or do you wait for me to bring the truth?

Let me tell you brother
let me tell you sister
let me tell you child
You Can Fly Away!
Let me tell you brother
let me tell you sister
let me tell you child
You Can Fly Away!

And even if the day goes by
with a pause or a STOP!
And even if the day goes by
might as well just drop down to the ground.

Let me tell you brother
let me tell you sister
let me tell you child
You Can Fly Away!

It’s all there for you
Just remember where you have been today
Take a Smile for the truth

You can fly, I’ll show you the way.

Let me tell you brother
let me tell you sister
let me tell you child
You Can Fly Away!

Boredom abashes, fragile minds
Turns them to ashes; soiled blind
You’ve turn to run away from this disease,
But with your hollow self, you’re left to plead.
So you cry out loudly in the vacant night,
No one else can bring the light.

Where do you turn to, when you can’t decide?
So, where do you turn to when you’ve run to hide?
(Not inside)

Little shelter girl, I know you
Fragment of yourself, soul residue
You were so innocent, sweetest little child,
Then you found the world, your refuge exiled
So, you wrap yourself in night-from blankets
Found the truth was how you faked it.
Fake it. Faked it.

Where do you turn to, when you can’t decide?
So, where do you turn to when you’ve run to hide?

Behind the shattered truth of your desire
Lies solid shadow streams, an invisible fire.
In one grained moment, you’ve come to this goodnight.
You turn away from me, stealing the sight”
Of what has come to pass and who you are
With one arms breadth, you pull me apart.

You found yourself, didn’t you?
Come face to face with me and share the truth.
PEEL away this Mask, So I can see through you.

You could reveal to me in One Sharp Breath
But you, you turn from me…
SEEKING THE DEATH

Of your lost soul and your cracked feet
Pacing in this wasteland, burning in the heat.
Turn
to
me
TURN TO ME