Observe the melting pictures bleeding with the sound
Behind the mask there lives a lonely soul
And he wore till the day that he lost control
Gilbert -
It was a stormy night
Streets illuminated with flashing lights
People on their feet a drifter sleeping on the concrete
November discontent. It washed away the evidence
If they give him innocence I got a different consequence.
In the metropolis of north west quadrant
They raided the apartment. Lets open up the documents
At times I guess one doubts their self confidence
And found it in a weapon when he fired on the innocent
Someone call the cops, this cop shot this kid!
His mental out of state not understanding what he did
Vital organs are deprived of essential oxygen
Blood flow reduced he opened up his eyes again
It's all an accident! I wasn't really competent!
A vicious instrument that played out to a sentiment
A heated argument he pointed and he targeted
He pulled the trigger now the blood stain remains permanent
Life had just begun for the son of the working class
Only fourteen at the end of this hour glass
Instinct reaction to the outrage
But the story didn't make to the front page
I analyze these thoughts for the next day
A silent memory fades remains locked away
And in the blink of an eye observe the situation
Down on Studemont, welcome to the Mind Museum
Welcome to the Mind Museum
Take a look around
Observe the melting pictures bleeding with the sound
Behind the mask there lives a lonely soul
And he wore till the day that he lost control
Cristian -
See I was standing on Washington. (And) In the distance James played the sax for change while passing trains made way. For two great minds to intertwine slightly different but both understood the fine line. He had a slender build, pretty tall, glass eye and broken jaw. shit! This was the realest cat you never saw! Pain in his eyes. Check the master of the improvise. White collar criminal forging documents at times. I could relate cause everybody makes mistakes. Switch up the name change out the license's plates. (he was) In and out week to week used to hardly sleep. Open up the window proceed he's just a creep. What the hell am I doing here? Here? I don't belong here! He nearly spotted me. After pulling of a robbery! Off Westheimer someone would follow me! Observe the scenery. Puff the greenery. Had to get my mind off the scene that proceeded me. Home late went to open up the place. Picked up the skeleton of a broken vase. I turned around. There he was looking at me! Whispering Cruz, "you can't put nothing past me." These are the stories that we sometimes live. In the Mont Rose (yeah) where anything gives, now
Welcome to the Mind Museum
Take a look around
Observe the melting pictures bleeding with the sound
