album cover
Radio Static
19
Rock
Radio Static was released on January 1, 1993 by American Recordings Catalog P&D as a part of the album Gimmick
album cover
AlbumGimmick
Release DateJanuary 1, 1993
LabelAmerican Recordings Catalog P&D
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM111

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Barkmarket
Barkmarket
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
D. Sardy
D. Sardy
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
D. Sardy
D. Sardy
Producer

Lyrics

There's big money in these fat black hills
If you know how to smell for it
You could drive home a nail in the sand
And brag half deaf 'til your hands won't stain that brand
As it burns out your manifest grain
On these windfall days
Some old crank on your water they say
Tills his crop on your pay dirt and won't play
He begs the moon for the next sun to return
As we calculate just how much book to make on his fate
And the grass won't tell
How we made this belt from his wet hide
In a moment of pure self-help
Black and tanned as every good boy should
As the proof of your mettle runs straight through that exit wound
That you left on this varicose land
I can't stand
All your wires embracing me
Thick webbed lure of a glittering treat
By the truckload unclaimed for the better life
Sanctified in your desire to ration my air
With a straight face
And a bootlace noose
For the price of the sediment dreams
I took part in your vacancy
Washed over my hands in your glorious bleed
And then I cut this token from the side of this
Broken and hallowed out monument pain built
If I could cry
I'd drown in lies
In the dead eye of hindsight
And I can't raise my arms
I can't lift this tired form
I can't see why
Why you're baiting me!
Stop baiting me!
With a break in your power just tempered for how I might
Choose to relieve this fat-soaked need to be king
For a day
But for the right pay
To cover in steel gray
And state-shaped hate
For all the vacant bodies, burnt and unsaved
For nothing more than being all
I wish I could wipe from this place
And I'm bound to be rolling in these rinds
Tied on tight from my pockets to my mind
A battered bent tail off my spine
Like some half-spent slack-backed mule that I can't ride
I don't want to be out of this time
I don't want to see what there's left of me
If I could run
I'd drag my gun
And set it to right my eyes
If I could raise my hands
If I could lift these tired plans
I'd rake out the crack in my...
Mind
Mind
Mind
If I could run
I'd drag my gun
Gun
It's gone
Written by: D. Sardy
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