Trampled Brethren
Dälek Lyrics


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With uncertainty i ink my final thoughts on unlit blocks
Niggas caught on heron nods
Stil at odds with false gods of archaic age.
Angelic face wretched with pain ignites my flame.
Your mundane daily life amazes me
Such complacency.
Tattered city once brimming with life now sits abandoned
Some feel these thoughts to random
I hand them their empty heads as main coarse to DaVinci's Last Supper
As they sit in wonder.
Abundant sun pours over ald steel and bricks
Filling my aching eyes till they split.
I felt my earth shift, contort, and twist.
Lift heavy brow to view what happened to my tiny corner of dirt.
Worthless soul too old to care
As despair builds thick amongst my people.
From burnt steeples hear distant toll of bells
Ancient tongue swells as one lumbers with prenatal language.
Manage a coarse throaty mumble to convey how this earth crumbles.
I tumble, close to where I've been a million times before
Free to ignore pain which pounds at human temples.
I resemble less of a man and more the dirt I tread on.

To my trampled brethren,
Heaven won't accept you!
Either you or it don't exist.
Consider that a gift
As we walk through that mist filled vally
Vulnerable souls tell tales of ill proportions
Scorching RA soothing moon, soon to dim
My travels at an end, light bends to dark
Jagged crossed sticks manhandled as scripture and art
Picture your Christ as blond and blue eyed,
As mine resides within confines of empty glass bottle.
Robbed of youth i wobble past society and rest my head on curb of reality,
If only for a nap,
To grasp for that which we lack.
Remain trapped in these three dimensions
Mention I once stepped past, now viewed as insane.
Trained human pets scurry to cubical for food pellets.
Next funeral for those who think, cause thoughts are relics.
I smell this viscous odor on each face I meet,
Seems humanity reached peak in 20th century.
My jaded eye strains to see through a smoke-filled room.
Consumed by books which speak of our past
At last begin to piece together our beginnings
With few fleeting seconds till our end,
Quickly cross that bridge you bum,
See what's on the other shore.
It's lure magnetic
In our drunken minds
Poor feeble shell hoping for so much more




Left entranced by ancient dance of emptiness.
Few are the blessed who feed on truth's breast.

Overall Meaning

The opening lyrics describe the singer's contemplation of the world around them, which they view with a mix of incredulity and pain. They see people wasting their lives in "mundane daily" routines and feel frustrated by the abandonment of a once-thriving city. A sense of despair pervades the song, with references to "false gods" and the destruction of the earth. The singer feels a sense of kinship with the "trampled brethren" of the song's title, who are rejected by heaven but also beyond the reach of earthly concerns. The singer describes their own disconnection from society and their longing for something more meaningful.


Line by Line Meaning

With uncertainty i ink my final thoughts on unlit blocks
I express my final thoughts with hesitation on blank pages


Niggas caught on heron nods
People are addicted to drugs


Stil at odds with false gods of archaic age.
Still struggling to break free from ancient false beliefs


Angelic face wretched with pain ignites my flame.
A beautiful face enduring pain inspires me


Your mundane daily life amazes me
I find your ordinary life fascinating


Such complacency.
But I also find it concerning


Tattered city once brimming with life now sits abandoned
A city that was once vibrant is now deserted


Some feel these thoughts to random
Some may think these thoughts are irrelevant


I hand them their empty heads as main coarse to DaVinci's Last Supper
I metaphorically serve them their empty thoughts like a main course at a dinner party


As they sit in wonder.
And they are left to contemplate


Abundant sun pours over ald steel and bricks
The sun shines bright on old buildings


Filling my aching eyes till they split.
And hurts my eyes that are sensitive to light


I felt my earth shift, contort, and twist.
I felt like my world was collapsing and changing


Lift heavy brow to view what happened to my tiny corner of dirt.
I look around to see what has become of my small patch of land


Worthless soul too old to care
I feel disheartened and too old to do anything about it


As despair builds thick amongst my people.
The feeling of hopelessness grows among the people around me


From burnt steeples hear distant toll of bells
I hear the sound of church bells from far away ruins


Ancient tongue swells as one lumbers with prenatal language.
The local language is primitive and ancient


Manage a coarse throaty mumble to convey how this earth crumbles.
I try to express in a rough voice how the world is falling apart


I tumble, close to where I've been a million times before
I fall down, in the same place where I have fallen many times before


Free to ignore pain which pounds at human temples.
I can choose to ignore the pain that causes headaches


I resemble less of a man and more the dirt I tread on.
I feel more like the dirt than a human being


To my trampled brethren,
To my oppressed brothers and sisters,


Heaven won't accept you!
You won't find salvation in heaven!


Either you or it don't exist.
Maybe you don't exist or maybe heaven doesn't


Consider that a gift
But maybe that's a good thing


As we walk through that mist filled vally
As we journey through the valley of mist


Vulnerable souls tell tales of ill proportions
Exposed spirits reveal stories of sorrow


Scorching RA soothing moon, soon to dim
The hot sun and calming moon are both coming to an end


My travels at an end, light bends to dark
My journey ends as darkness replaces light


Jagged crossed sticks manhandled as scripture and art
Crooked branches used as symbols and art


Picture your Christ as blond and blue eyed,
You may imagine Jesus as a white person


As mine resides within confines of empty glass bottle.
I have my own personal version of Jesus within an empty bottle


Robbed of youth i wobble past society and rest my head on curb of reality,
I feel like society has taken away my youth and I lay my head on the pavement of truth


If only for a nap,
Maybe for just a quick rest,


To grasp for that which we lack.
In order to seek what we are missing


Remain trapped in these three dimensions
We are limited to only these three dimensions


Mention I once stepped past, now viewed as insane.
I talk about something I experienced once that now makes me seem crazy


Trained human pets scurry to cubical for food pellets.
People are like trained animals, rushing to their cubicles for scraps of food


Next funeral for those who think, cause thoughts are relics.
The next funeral is for those who think critically, because that is seen as old-fashioned


I smell this viscous odor on each face I meet,
I perceive a thick, unpleasant scent on every face I see


Seems humanity reached peak in 20th century.
It seems like humanity was at its best in the 20th century


My jaded eye strains to see through a smoke-filled room.
My tired eyes struggle to see through a room filled with smoke


Consumed by books which speak of our past
I am absorbed by books that recount our history


At last begin to piece together our beginnings
Finally starting to understand how it all started


With few fleeting seconds till our end,
With only a few short moments until we are gone,


Quickly cross that bridge you bum,
Cross the bridge quickly, you homeless person,


See what's on the other shore.
Discover what's waiting on the other side


It's lure magnetic
It's pull is irresistible


In our drunken minds
In our confused state of mind,


Poor feeble shell hoping for so much more
We are weak and hope for greater things


Left entranced by ancient dance of emptiness.
We are enchanted by the meaningless ancient dance


Few are the blessed who feed on truth's breast.
Only a few fortunate ones get to experience the nourishing truth




Contributed by Thomas G. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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