Daylight Savings Time

by kounterclockwise

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about

15% of all donations will go to The Wheelchair Foundation.
Video for Open www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvCAwrfy3Mo
Video for The Beatings www.youtube.com/watch?v=07lEbNIrKec
Video for Moonwalk www.youtube.com/watch?v=j78MoknobcY

credits

released November 6, 2011

Kounterclockwise is Deacon Burns and Kaya Rogue. Recorded at Litterbox studios all songs produced, arranged and mixed by Kounterclockwise All lyrics written by Deacon Burns engineered by Kaya Rogue. Additional keys by Will Stylz. Guitar on "Replaced" by Ian Leffel. Mastered by John Walsh. Cover Art by Jim Lujan. Executive Producers: Douglas Johnson, Carine Gabriel, David S. Modrow.

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about

kounterclockwise Cleveland, Ohio

Cleveland Heights' Alternative Punk-Hop act Kounterclockwise formed over a decade ago in the heart of the South Bronx. From New York City, Kaya Rogue (Co-Producer, Co-Writer, Engineer, Singer, & Musician) and Cleveland native Deacon Burns (MC, Producer, Songwriter, Musician and Engineer)quickly developed their skills while doing production work for several artists from DJ Swamp to Yela Wolf . ... more

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Track Name: Dec. 20th 2012
Dec. 20th 2012
Lyrics by Deacon Burns

This life is gonna be the death of me
I’ll never get out of this world alive
Live and let die
In God We Trust
Gold, oil, and drugs
There’s no love, just lust, gots to get mine
Now’s the time for the skies to part and Amun to shine
But everyone’s blind so it’s all for not
Blood, sweat and white snot
I got the Coumadin for you blood clots!
I’m sick on the mic
Better wise up Janet Weiss and build your thighs up
Life is fucked up, so I stay fucked up.
Bitch, so what’s up?
Yeah I’m from the Burbs but these geeks stay strapped up.
So I suggest you back up before my wheels roll over your Jordan fours! (Oh No!)
Drug addicted, sex addicted, narcissistic,
psychotic, twisted, neurotic!

Get as much as you can
Live as fast as you can
Use everybody you can
Screw everybody you can
In these last days of man
gotta make a stand before the ball drops and the world pops.

While Jesus Saves I spin again and again
A gambler that can’t win as I fight the devil within
Like Buddha battling Mara, lord of desire engulfed in fire
Like Richard Pryor, free-basing while drenched in liquor
I’m Samson in between two pillars
and the world’s gonna remember before it’s over!
Piss in the boot, Ladders and Chutes, I’m a mute surrounded by loud mouth bitches that think they cute.
The rats and children follow the sound of the flute and I’m the Pied Piper/Sniper ready to shoot.
Chasing dead memories like a hamster on a wheel as I squeal like this little piggy.
My attitude is fucked up and real shitty.
Especially, my homey, when the pill bottle’s empty.
Religion is slavery in this land of rape and honey -
Ministry of disease and money!

Get as much as you can
Live as fast as you can
Use everybody you can
Screw everybody you can
In these last days of man
gotta make a stand before the ball drops and the world pops.

The songs of a slave are the sorrows of the heart
One step above the grave (so be afraid of the dark)
Purged only by blood, by the X make your mark
One step above the grave (so be afraid of the dark)
All Aboard on the Boat! Don’t get left by the Ark!
One step above the grave (so be afraid of the dark)
Slowly loosing grip as the world falls apart.
One step above the grave!

Life is a prison and God is the warden.
When you die you get paroled and Hell is what you make it.
Satan is a woman and she’s sexy when she’s naked.
But don’t be deceived by the weave and the trinkets.
Our love has been tainted, everything is X-rated
Society full of bigots pointing fingers at the wicked
Our children are lost, and condemned, and abandoned - like buildings, I’m screaming cause FUCK I CAN’T TAKE IT!

Get as much as you can
Live as fast as you can
Use everybody you can
Screw everybody you can
In these last days of man
gotta make a stand before the ball drops and the world pops.
Track Name: Pump Your Brakes
PUMP YOUR BRAKES
Lyrics by Deacon Burns

(Verse 1)
Got a kite mentality on a rainy day when lighting is frightening when I've been drinking.
(I'll) never stop spitting till they put me in my coffin, whether you ignore it or listen.
Quick to drain any lyricists essence leaving only an organ-less, boneless, toothless, brainless bag of flesh.
I'm like metal objects in the microwave punching hot shrapnel in your chest.
Venomous lyrics, infected track. No antidote.
So I suggest my dude you use the back door.
Kounterclockwise in the front, talking loud, smoking blunts, downing shots, getting pumped.
The show’s about to start, we tear the stage apart, the trigger got no heart, so be afraid of the dark.
That's when freaks like me wander the streets, looking for beef, so stay at home before we meet.

(Chorus)
When we ride we ride low.
Kicking in your door like POPO.
Don't try to run, you're too slow.
(You) better pump your brakes, whoa!
When we ride we ride low.
Kicking in your door like POPO.
Don't try to run, you're too slow.
better pump your brakes, whoa!

(Verse 2)
Your organ of hearing; consisting of external, middle, and internal ear
Will now embark on this lyrical spark
Transmitted throughout the atmosphere
MC-s better beware
of my dysfunctional and unstable mental.
Crews get man-handled, left crippled & disabled, like me!
I'll deflate your balloon mind-state and ego.
Ni**as be short, better stand on your tippy toes.
Baby here we go, strap yourselves in.
It's about to blow, detonate the C-4.
I ignite the mic, pack the pipe, think twice.
I don't want no trouble but I'll shoot ya Bit@h!
If you don't quit gonna break my foot off in your ass. Ni**a get!
This ain’t no threat, it's a promise.
I'm straight up serious.
It's about to get dangerous.

Chorus:
When we ride we ride low.
Kicking in your door like POPO.
Don't try to run, you're too slow.
(You) better pump your brakes, whoa!
When we ride we ride low.
Kicking in your door like POPO.
Don't try to run, you're too slow.
better pump your brakes, whoa!

(Verse 3)
Check one, two, as I rock the mic!
Mentally in flight like a string-less kite.
Hahahaha! Little ni**a this is fright night
and they call me ‘The Count’ with platinum chains in your jugular veins.
I'm like a dog with mange when I bite, Yipes!
Dr. Strange got you in range, take aim,
release the hammer, the bloodstains, the walls, the windows, the ceilings, the floors.
Like Whodini I’m a whore from which it's like a lion when I roar.
Find me in the ghetto on the corner like a liquor store.
My spirit is torn fighting an internal civil war
Full of guts and gore.
I'm a wreck, looking for a place to happen.
I'm a mess, my body's all bruised and broken.
There's no rest for the possessed in their coffins.
Just death surrounded by stress.
Here's the ending…

(Chorus)
When we ride we ride low.
Kicking in your door like POPO.
Don't try to run, you're too slow.
(You) better pump your brakes, whoa!
When we ride we ride low.
Kicking in your door like POPO.
Don't try to run, you're too slow.
Better pump your brakes, whoa!

Don't try to run, you're too slow.
Better pump your brakes, whoa!

Don't try to run, you're too slow.
Better pump your brakes, whoa!
Track Name: Open
OPEN - LYRICS DEACON BURNS

Dealers get your quick fix ladies spend your WIC checks in the projects they got it "open"
rolling wheelchair tricks, polo shirts, and Tim kicks
in the Heights you know we got it "open"
Cops got their night sticks chasing kids who pull licks
down in EC they got it "open"
This is broken-back-rap trick, hanging on, loosing grip
They love it when I spit, I got it "open"

I'm a walking talking living cliche of an entire generation
raised by single women and television with no direction
Deacon, once an angel of compassion
now a child of sin, go figure
Blotted mind Kounterclockwise against time
backs against the wall
me against them all
even against myself
this is a cry for help from a boy who cried wolf, take a look
i'm like a crook with a loaded nine millimeter, with a hair finger temper
mouth full of brown liquor, nose full of (hard narcotics)
fu@k my oppressor and false deliverer
we gonna get ya
I wanna feel but my heart has no desire
I wanna smile but these drugs got me wired
i wanna die but this gun won't fire and I got a damn bloodlust like a vampire

Dealers get your quick fix ladies spend your WIC checks in the projects they got it "open"
rolling wheelchair tricks, polo shirts, and Tim kicks
in the Heights you know we got it "open"
Cops got their night sticks chasing kids who pull licks
down in EC they got it "open"
This is broken-back-rap trick, hanging on, loosing grip
They love it when I spit, I got it "open"

Today is just like yesterday and tomorrow will be just like today
just another manic Monday thru Sunday
saw my psychiatrist, suggests Prozac twice a day
I done drove my girl away, my momma thinks i'm crazy, i'm even starting to scare me
but i ain't afraid to tell you that i'm scared B, ecoto-morph lost in insanity
it seems life has lost it's faith in everything
warning the wise is killing
this will probably be my last recording cause the way i be popping pills and drinking,
i'll be dead in the morning
but until then this lyrical lesson will keep you guessing, will he jump
will he jump?
i'm swan-diving off the terminal tower, a Kounterclockwise shower

Dealers get your quick fix ladies spend your WIC checks in the projects they got it "open"
rolling wheelchair tricks, polo shirts, and Tim kicks
in the Heights you know we got it "open"
Cops got their night sticks chasing kids who pull licks
down in EC they got it "open"
This is broken-back-rap trick, hanging on, loosing grip
They love it when I spit, I got it "open"

Dealers get your quick fix ladies spend your WIC checks in the projects they got it "open"
rolling wheelchair tricks, polo shirts, and Tim kicks
in the Heights you know we got it "open"
Cops got their night sticks chasing kids who pull licks
down in EC they got it "open"
This is broken-back-rap trick, hanging on, loosing grip
They love it when I spit, I got it "open"
Track Name: Moonwalk
Song lyrics by Deacon Burns

You don't wan't none here
Baby back it on up
you better Moonwalk
You better Moonwalk
You better mOOnwalk (REPEATS TILL FIRST VERSE STARTS)

I was at Club Speed in the back smoking weed sipping on a Long Island Iced Tea
that's when this little Dominican mommy caught my eye
looking fly walked over and she said, hi - can i hit your blunt
girl with an ass like that you can do whatever you want
she started to giggle took two hits and she coughed a little
yo the haze will put you in a haze
that's when i heard her dude say, yo B you better step away from wifey or you'll be sorry
what, don't try to play me cause you think i dress hippie
you see me at the party with your lady hitting my philly
if it's your bit*h i'm with then it's your bit*h you check
respect watch your motha-ucking lip
i mean it, i done dropped too much acid
i'm psychotic sadistic and twisted
aint no gimmick for the music

You don't wan't none here
Baby back it on up
you better Moonwalk
You better Moonwalk
You better mOOnwalk (4x)

Me and my girl in the back of the spot
yo the place was hot, she wanted Remy on rocks
I wanted one myself strapped on my seat-belt
be back in a minute, yo this dance floor is hectic
music mad loud made my way through the packed crowd
yelling at the bartender, bring me a mescal
in this place full of wolves an my sheep's all alone
ni**gas trying to take my broad home
she already told you she got a man
but you keep hawking, trying to dance
that's when i rolled over and i was like, damn get out my bitch grill
you ain't paying the bills
yo homey, you don't know me
show some motha-ucking courtesy
cause i'm too damn drunk to continue to act friendly
look at my hips, you see the nine-milli

You don't wan't none here
Baby back it on up
you better Moonwalk
You better Moonwalk
You better mOOnwalk (4x)

Spend a little money for the booty
but you can't rule my world like you own me
you know that i got a lady
yeah we crept and we slept, now take it easy
stop calling my phone blowing up my spot
trying to get me caught, leave me alone
you already got your self a man
stop being selfish, just beat it bitch
shit, we could've still been kicking it and you too damn jealous and i ain't leaving my chick
for you or no other, word to my mother
keep it under cover and find yourself another
she said, i'm gonna tell my brothers how you tried to play me out and they gonna take you out.
word, write my address down, give it to those clowns, motha-uckers come and see me now

You don't wan't none here
Baby back it on up
you better Moonwalk
You better Moonwalk
You better mOOnwalk
Track Name: Dec. 21st 2012
December 21, 2012 (aka 911) - written by Deacon Burns.

Racing against the clock waiting for the bomb to drop, no breaks I can't stop
Downward spiral, out of control, got my gun cocked and I'm ready to unload.
Racing against the clock waiting for the bomb to drop, no breaks I can't stop
Downward spiral, out of control, got my gun cocked and I’m ready to unload.

Feel the black embrace of loneliness
Betrayed by friend and foe, I stand alone
For everyman has his own sin to serve
God vs. God as we fight for the thrown
Uneasy lays the head that wears the crown
Ministry of fear and sound
The living envy the dead
Die by your own hands now it's time to drown
Close your eyes to the lies
Fear the suspense living under the rock
Waiting for the bomb to drop
Racing against the clock
Running from cops, no breaks I can't stop
Born to late. I'm an acquired taste held together by spit and tape.
What a waste
Future memory running on empty, moving words on a page that burns.
Stuck in the back of the line waiting my turn.
Self inflicted wounds. I'll never learn
What is life but to swim upstream just to mate and die.
This is all a lie
funny thing about death,
the only thing you get to take with you is your regret
Ain't this a bitch!
Coming up short on the microphone.

Racing against the clock waiting for the bomb to drop, no breaks I can't stop
Downward spiral, out of control, got my gun cocked and I'm ready to unload.
Racing against the clock waiting for the bomb to drop, no breaks I can't stop
Downward spiral, out of control, got my gun cocked and I’m ready to unload.

ready to unload
ready to unload
ready to unload
Unload

Between hanging on and letting go,
Kill yourself just to feel
Struggling to sell oneself without tipping the scale
Being self-indulgent, trapped in a self-hell
How many drugs does it take to solve the same problem?
Always high, I can't tell.
Hoping that it lies at the bottom of a bottle,
Wishing god lives in a needle.
There’s no victims, only volunteers over here
Dear it's simple, blind and pitiful
I don't give a fuck, tell that bitch and her nigga,
Momma, daddy, brother down in Florida
I’m the frustration of a lost generation, drinking brew playing Playstation.
God lives in a television, he smiles at my destruction and sin.
Eat your rotted fruit and wear your tarnished jewels, optimistic fools.
Think you got it bad, it always gets worse
Especially when you're cursed nigga know the rules
Too late, too early, too soon.
I'm a cartoon, animated, illustrated
Un-licked wounds,
World is a tomb trying to keep me incarcerated and isolated.

Racing against the clock waiting for the bomb to drop, no breaks I can't stop
Downward spiral, out of control, got my gun cocked and I'm ready to unload.
Racing against the clock waiting for the bomb to drop, no breaks I can't stop
Downward spiral, out of control, got my gun cocked and I’m ready to unload.

ready to unload
ready to unload
ready to unload
unload