Scott Thorough - Pixelated lyrics

The past might be faded (faded, faded) But the future's pixelated (-lated, -lated) And the present is debatable And everything is hate-able We generation ‘I Don't Get It' Little babies diabetic I look around it's all medium-res And every newspaper, website's medium read And the media! The media! The media's dead And if you need to be fed Well then you're barking in the wrong kitchen The cooks, the chefs, they gone fishin' Man, you just missed 'em, they left a note Like, ‘Hey, by the way, can we borrow your boat?' You need that like you need a sword-swallower To borrow your throat So pardon the joke, but this is the art of the broke No, the art isn't broke, but the artist is though And the artist is a martyr to most Especially its own brain, that's the heart of the joke And when I say ‘THE joke', I mean like life Got truth tatted all on my face like Mike Tyse Now all I need's a mirror Francs, Yen, Lira And 7 Samurai to hold the village down l Like Kurosawa, the list goes on like comma Comma, chameleon, lama Modern Shark swimming through the drama Converting it to comedy Then harmonize the grits and turn 'em back to hominy Cause the past might be faded (faded, faded) But the future's pixelated (-lated, -lated) And the present might be fully recorded and digitized But the future's not written in code that we define So, nor can we decipher Dead the house lights and spark your digital lighter And I'll provide the digital flame And we can get lost innocently like a kid in a game Like ‘Now you're playing with power' Last board, last guy, and you may get devoured But it doesn't really matter Cause what matters is the feeling I'm not in the building, the building's on fire My relationship to the building is like ‘Man On Wire' Just a little higher, contemplating other sh** Came out of my mothership Looking for my fathership Thoughts on the page feel ancient like an obelisk So when they be like “What's up Baje?” I say “I'm marvelous!”