Thursday, 25 December 2008

Hands Held High - Linkin Park

God knows why this wasn't the first thing up when I made this blog...
Well, I'm putting it up now.
These lyrics show a couple of the reasons Mike Shinoda is my hero:
-His compassion
-His genius writing skills

This is Hands Held High by Linkin Park,off their most recent album 'Minutes to Midnight'


Hands Held High - Linkin Park

Turn my mic up louder I got to say something,
Light weights steppin' aside when we come in,
Feel it in your chest the syllables get pumping,
People on the street they panic and start running,
Words on loose leaf sheet complete coming,
I jump in my mind and summon the rhyme I'm dumping,
Healing the blind I promise to let the sun in,
Sick of the dark ways we march to the drumming,
Jump when they tell us that they wanna see jumping,
Fuck that I wanna see some fists pumping,
Risk something, take back what's yours,
Say something that you know they might attack you for,
Cause I'm sick of being treated like I have before,
Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for,
Like this war's really just a different brand of war,
Like it doesn't cater the rich and abandon poor,
Like they understand you in the back of the jet,
When you can't put gas in your tank,
These fuckers are laughing their way to the bank and cashing the cheque,
Asking you to have compassion and have some respect,
For a leader so nervous in an obvious way,
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day,
In their living room laughing like "what did he say?!"

[Chorus:]
Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen.


In my living room watching but I am not laughing,
Cause when it gets tense I know what might happen:
World is cold the bold men take action,
Have to react or get blown into fractions.
Ten years old it's something to see,
Another kid my age drugged under a jeep,
Taken and bound and found later under a tree,
I wonder if he had thought the next one could be me,
Do you see, the soldiers they're out today,
That brush the dust from bullet proof vests away,
It's ironic;at times like this you pray
But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday.
There's bombs in the buses, bikes, roads,
Inside your market, your shops, your clothes,
My dad he's got a lot of fear I know,
But enough pride inside not to let that show,
My brother had a book he would hold with pride:
A little red cover with a broken spinem
On the back, he hand-wrote a quote inside:
When the rich wage war it's the poor who die,
Meanwhile, the leader just talks away
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay,
And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day,
Both scared and angry like what did he say?!"


[Chorus x6]


With hands held high into the sky so blue,
As the ocean opens up to swallow you.
[x6]

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