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Protest The Hero
Protest The Hero


Background information
Origin Whitby, Ontario, Canada
Genre(s) Progressive Metal
Mathcore
Years active 1999—present
Label(s) Vagrant Records
Website Website
Members
Rody Walker
Tim Millar
Luke Hoskin
Arif Mirabdolbaghi
Moe Carlson



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  P  →  Protest The Hero  →  Albums  →  Scurrilous

Protest The Hero Album


Scurrilous (03/22/2011)
03/22/2011
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Stepped off a chair so he could learn to let loose
Learn to let loose before the pendulum wore off
His final sound a gurgle and a cough
And his final words "the pendulum wore off"

Stepped off a building to find concrete evidence
Concrete evidence that he'd ever make an impact
Fiction splattered into fact

And his fiction splattered into another sidewalk painting on display
Stepped off a bridge so he could make a splash
To make a splash he had to flounder like a fish out of water
Another lamb that chose the slaughter

Stepped off a chair so he could learn to let loose
Learn to let loose before the pendulum wore off
And his final sound

Stepped off the platform and briefly made the news
Made the news and made the trains run fifteen minutes late
Oh what a price to pay (the trains run fifteen minutes late)
Oh what a price to pay to be the author of your fate
(The trains were fifteen minutes late) to be the author of your fate
(The trains were fifteen minutes late) to be the author of your fate!

(C'est la vie!) a drooling old bitch and a house full of lies
(C'est la vie!) the little things that killed you make you glad to be alive
(C'est la vie!) disease in your genes and ocean levels on the rise
(C'est la vie!) sing a song of living before everybody dies

. . .


That sweet little red-head's got her hooks in my back
She points her finger and she shows me what I lack
Her pale skin, it burns so hot in the midnight air
She paints the streets a shade of grey around my chair, so come on in

Her hot breath on my skin and her scent on my fingers
Her taste is on my mind, it constantly lingers
'till I can breathe her, 'till I can believe her
'till I can grieve her, 'till I can leave her.

Every kiss is a little sickening
I can feel death's fingers quickening
Tightening my passageways
If you can't count the years start counting down.

Try to remember that she hates you
And though she might elate you,
She tries to kill the great that's in you now
And she's happening to the fate that awaits you now
And despite her words, its not too late

I wrote a Goddamn love song to praise everything I hate
And kids were wanting the chorus line,
And they sealed my pictures frame
She might run shit for right now but I'll be damned if its forever and always
As the chorus-line fleets away like friends in high school always

Oh, I got this feeling
That things will never, ever, ever be the same
Things will never be the same

What about those rainy nights in London?
What about the crippling desert heat?
What about all those times you swore you'd never leave me?
What about the hospital in L.A.?
You took me back after that night
What about that blackened image in my mind?
I swear I burn with a new light
What about that frozen, dripping, holiday burn that's cold
She's cold as ice!

. . .


Everyone knows that Cancer
Takes bites of every family
And it eats up families whole

Dance around the issue
Take issue with the answers provided
The past few years radiate with treatment
But to every day she'll put her cap on and greet them
She's got demons but you'll never meet them
Yeah we hope one day that she can finally beat them all

She laughs for us
She laughs so we don't worry
She smiles through the pain
And keeps the details blurry

My intentions are not to expose
The depths of her trouble aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose

And if there's one thing that remains
So crystal clear to us
It's that the wondering hands of the gods
Are so goddamn mysterious

Like there could be a justification
For the lives it takes and the lives that it's taken

This isn't a eulogy
Or a requiem
Just some words I've sketched out
Cause I haven't said them
This isn't about her father or brother
Just a few simple words so she knows that I love her
And tragedy will never disaffect her
I hope she knows how much I respect her

My intentions are not to expose, inverse or impose
The depths of her troubles aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose

A song worth singing
A wound that keeps on stinging
And that one sinking feeling
Its always worth clinging onto
And a stone at a glass house
That's always worth slinging

She laughs for us
She laughs so we don't worry
She smiles through the pain
And keeps the details blurry

My intentions are not to expose
The depths of her trouble aren't mine to disclose
But like evening rain on the petal of a rose
It drips down to the earth and begins to compose

Saints walk the earth
They all patrol the skies
They're the people right behind you
Riding tandem through the night
It's the comfort that's discovered
Between two sets of eyes
It's the hand that stills the other
That shakes like candlelight
Like candlelight

. . .


Yawn awake in familiar surroundings
All hotel rooms are pretty much the same
Though the room number might change
Catch a glimpse of everything within the lighter's flame

There's always a window but so changes the view
Affording a clue to the answer that's owing
Where we might be and where we might be going

There's no fixed address but the van
White as a suburb as you catch its reflection in store windows
As we're headed in any direction

So press your head against the window
Look outside at emptiness
Tell a joke, take a piss, take a picture at every mile
Lock the door and start the engine, 'cause it's gonna be awhile

Tell a joke, take a piss, take a picture at every mile
Start the van, close the door, "quince, it's gonna be awhile"
The climates flay themselves, undress themselves at the side of the road
Commune at the union between failure and hope

Weave a highway line to stitch a skirt out on the land
Twist and turn to tell a story like the palm of your hand
Ponder, awe, and wonder, keep watching the skies
Wonder, awe, and ponder, in the blink of an eye

The climates flay themselves, undress themselves at the side of the road
Commune at the union between failure and hope

Turn our weakness into
Turn our blindness into
Turn our questions into answers as obvious

Turn our weakness into might (keep watching the skies)
Turn our blindness into the sight (in the blink of an eye)
Turn our questions into answers just as obvious as moonlight in the darkest, darkest night

. . .


And what a fucking waste of a day
We just lay around and waste away
Because when that sun goes down it's bottoms up
We try to reach the bottom of the endless cup

Everybody's getting older, but no one's growing up
As the weather's getting colder, the room starts heating up

Kev's hair just keeps falling out and Chris just keeps getting fatter
But from where I sit now, on this rickety stool, None of that shit really matters because
This is our Versailles
Palace on the swamp

Listen to me for a nominal fee you can have anything you want
What matters the most is the backdrop ghost circling your floating corpse at the end of the haunt

Never forming pleasantry
I'm so drunk I can't feel a thing
Pledge your allegiance to the fucking swamp king

Drunk as hell
Dumb as all get out
So pucker up those pretty lips of yours and
Kiss my ass and shut your mouth

Sometimes a knife right through your heart is exactly what you need
Sometimes the things that you're ashamed of make you who you're supposed to be

Listen to me for a nominal fee you can have anything you want
We'll remain here
We'll remain here forever and always
What matters the most is the backdrop ghost circling your floating corpse at the end of the haunt
We'll remain here
We'll remain here forever

Like a million other soldiers on a thousand other battlefields we wait,
Wait for the dawn
Like a million other soldiers yes we wait

This is our Versailles
Palace on the swamp
This is our Versailles

. . .


And when the underworld's best kept secret saw it's own reflection
I knew things had finally changed (for better or worse, whatever as always)
when the mid-life fires start to burn and burn down our one protection,
I won't take pictures from their frame (whatever as always)

when the hands that sold me everything, slapped a price tag on my chest
I bit my tongue and shut my mouth, tried to blend in with the rest
but I'm a square peg, I'm a sore thumb
and it seems to me this apathy kills the life in artistry
and leaves us ankle deep in industry

All these songs sound so damn good, even if their meaning's hollow
but hollow words dry out your mouth
you might find it hard to swallow
all the shit that we keep feeding, to keep ourselves and you believing
that no money could change us then a door opens up and some devil persuades us

the songs we sung when we were just young have all but lost their meaning
but there's still a few things that we keep on believing…

shitty music just ain't worth makin'
smiles and thank-you's just ain't worth fakin'
some assholes' hands just ain't worth shaking
and if it ain't broken, we need to break it

there's no such thing as unconditional, no contracts bind you in the end
make no mistake, this is a killing ground
blood-hungry and camouflaged as friends
select 'yes' at the end of this mess…
if you get there
and it's your only fucking 'option' left

these days I don't know the people I'm supposed to trust
and I don't trust these people that I'm supposed to know
the handlebars on my dreams slowly start to rust
they'll take everything and somehow you still owe
as the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings and sell them all for blow

these days I don't know the people I'm supposed to trust
and I don't trust these motherfuckers that I'm supposed to know
the handlebars on all my dreams, they slowly start to rust
as the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings and sell them all for blow
I make music for myself
not for hat tips from the upper-tier and their undeserved wealth
here's to their failing fucking health…

I don't mean this in a hateful way, but when the people you love start walking away
the walls gets tighter each and every day
you better take your last bite before it crumbles away
and there's something inside me I just have to say
love nothing, trust no one, just live for the motherfucking day

. . .


Each word bitten, every 'fuck' is pronounced
with conviction written, injustice announced
and every hand that feeds is bitten if it steals from hungry mouths
convention be damned, I know who I am, and some words are just too fucking loud

they can't be ignored
twice our bitter life-time tucked tightly in their belts,
but spat and bit in such a way that you know just how it felt
what it means to be a man and what it means to refuse it
things I learned along the way while listening to their music
so laugh then cry, well try but laugh again
throw your hands up in relief that twenty years won't end their reign

The reign of unending terror
the reign that brings us warning
the reign that breaks the sky and gives us hope for the end of this long night
red sky, morning light

the truth is, some days I don't have any morals at all
the truth is I left them in the men's room, at the truck-stop, in the second stall

and that's the kind of enemy, that obscures the very core of me
my shallow lacking, and disbelief (steps back while) flipping through the sleeves
of CD books with cold-cocked hooks, flip the kings uplift the rooks, spit on the diamond cuffs of the real crooks

when you look in my eyes who do you see?
when you look in my eyes who is it?

. . .


Gin always the gin
I always take one on the chin
the devil dogs and scorpions peel away and wear my skin

the smokeless flame
the common name
less than the angels but more of the same
no paradise, nor gre'thor will lay their claim
whether the intentions are violence or just mundane

with the wind he disappeared, confirming everything that I feared
the time passed is shown by the length of his beard

Salayman stands dead on his feet
waiting for termites to resolve his conceit
(In the mountains, in the seas, in the airways, the disease)

we are not gods
death comes to us all
but tonight I'm invincible, tomorrow I'll crawl
(In the mountains, in the seas, in the airways, the disease)

the gin in this bottle, just don't let him drown
next lesson you swallow, might be hard to keep down
taste the penalty of the blazing fire
taste the penalty, sing with the devil's choir

Gin always the gin
never thick and never thin
thicker than blood, less than kin,
the rattle-trap night ends where it begins

. . .


A psycho therapist once claimed I had acute neurosis
I only said a couple words and he made his diagnosis
He said I could say whatever I want because I never chose this
So I spat and grinned and I looked at him and i blew him a glasgow kiss, look out now
I close just one eye, and let a part of me die
Never too sure if it's the truth or a lie

I'm not asking for your pity, woe is me sarcastically
I'm not losing sleep pathetically, while waxing so poetically
But I'm waning, waning, alphabetically
As I keep dropping bombs, dropping bombs, dropping bombs apologetically

It was a wicked whimpering winter plague night, when my tongue grew wings and took to flight
The thought had never crossed my mind before that moment
Is the truth so bent, it can't be broken

Jealousy got the best of me, and had a conference with the rest of me
It said "If this is all that's left for me then there's so little room for regret"
And that little voice (hey), little voice (hey)
little voice inside my head said "If you don't regret nothing then you might as well be dead"

So I apologize
Mostly to the four or five guys who stand behind me on the stage every night
As the mic starts to whisper, and the words start to blister in my mouth, that i know aren't right
I gotta get back to who I was before my last ten years on autopilot
It's the mask that quite often starts to eat into your face
So wear it lightly like a cap that can quickly be replaced
I gotta get back to who I was before my last ten years on autopilot

So tell me again how my life should have been, before I was spineless before I gave in
'Cause everybody thinks it's timeless, well time's running out
One thing I'll never regret is I never shed my face

. . .


He's looking at you, kid
It was gonna leak eventually, so eventually it did
And bad news travels fast indeed
In minutes, half the country will be stiff, Stiff inside their pants

All the editors are hard, all the journalists are wet
All the boys are jerking off in private on the internet

The manager is sweating
The parents smoking cigarettes
And it doesn't matter if the vision shatters
It's the nudity, and much is understood
(And much is understood, and much is understood)
and it better be, it fucking better be, It better be good
And she looks hungry on that tape,
Yeah, she looks starving in that limelight
In that sickly green, she might have been a girl I know or a place I've seen

Now all the editors are hard, And all the journalists are wet
All the boys are jerking off in private on the internet

Between the sweat and the silhouette
Between the drink and the regret
Have your fill but don't forget,
Everyone's naked somewhere on the internet
Somewhere on the internet

The Jonas generation's got rings wrapped 'round their dicks
The whole world waits with patience for one male voice to slip
Reflected! Directed! By one simple fact
Be careful what you're looking at because it might be looking back

And in that sickly green, she might have been
A girl I know or a place I've seen
And in that sickly green, she might have been
A fantasy that I've foreseen

Yeah! Getting off! Getting off online!
Getting off! Get it on! Get it off online!
In that sickly green, she might have been a girl I know or a place I've seen
A girl I know or a place I've seen

. . .


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