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Belly-Sting

©2007 Savage Sun, Jon Boetes | The Art of Being Alive

The pain from the cold is bold but outdone
Out comes the white light heat from the sun
Grippin' the mic like a fist holds a gun
The voyage out of nothing has already begun
Savage, the maverick who trusts no one
Like Brazilian kids that must survive in the slums
The emptiness of the hole is made whole
Crammed with passion contained like a brain in a skull

Similar to the divide of body and soul
Or the fear of death making you loose control
Traumatic reality of pure suffering
The sorrowing pain injecting the sting
Bringin raw energy something like lightning
Being locked in the cell of yourself is frightening
You must admit that it's a strange feeling
The bellysting floods your veins, changes up everything

It's amazing what this life can bring
Raise the roof so high rip off the ceiling
Drenched by torturous torrents of feelings
Like this rhyme, when it stings, there is no healing

It's amazing what this life can bring
Raise the roof so high rip off the ceiling
Drenched by torturous torrents of feelings
Like this rhyme, when it stings, there is no healing

Jon (8 bars)

And as fate unfolded it was meant to be
That Savage would turn the tables on schemes of history
Articulate the struggle of life and misery
Navigating through the perfect storm in dark seas
While demonstrating the strength to overcome
Eternal shadows etched on stone from the flash of the sun
Forged with a diamond will a strong link
While the weakest of the weak they shrink by instinct

Wars waged on battlefields inside the heart
Life so monsterous it can tear you apart
Have you scaled the cliff of grief and agony?
Cried blood, spit tears, shook hands with tragedy?
Been lured down the seductive path of destiny
Ensnared by the destructive trap reality
You must admit that it's a strange feeling
The bellysting floods your veins, changes up everything

It's amazing what life can bring
Raise the roof so high rip off the ceiling
Drenched by torturous torrents of feelings
Like this rhyme, when it stings, there is no healing

It's amazing what life can bring
Raise the roof so high rip off the ceiling
Then drenched by torturous torrents of feelings
Like this rhyme, when it stings, there is no healing

Have you survived the wretchedness and agony?
Savage would rewrite the meaning of history
Savage would become the emissary of history
Savage would describe a unique and distinct history

Unique version Unfurled would have it
The voyage out of nothing has already begun
And as fate would have it, it was meant to be
Chosen to articulate the struggle of life and misery
Can you say you've felt the spark and survived the agony



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