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Rock Paper Cynic - Philosophical Zombie Slayer

Misc Unsigned Bands

Text File

Capo 2 Am G F Fm He splits skulls with his axioms, and a shotgun named Voltaire, Am G F Fm John Locke n' stock, he'll rock your socks, this P-Zombie Slayer... Am B7 Brains... brains... brains... he's got 'em Am C G F He's read Camus and Sun Tzu too, every literary pillar, Am C G F He's a zombie-bustin' Saint Augustine, natural born Schiller, Am C G F The badass bookworm boss of the holy cross-examination, Am C G He fights undead mobs with Thomas Hobbes and ratiocination, F Fm His enemies are both dead and not, in unlife left to linger, Am G But he'll collapse all their uncertainties by the powers of Schroedinger. Am F You can tell him that he Kant, "But it's imperative," he'll say. Fm Cdim With his David Humean touch he will commit you to the flames. Am G F Fm He splits skulls with his axioms, and a shotgun named Voltaire, Am G F Fm John Locke n' stock, he'll rock your socks, this P-Zombie Slayer... Am B7 Brains... brains... brains... he's got 'em Am C G F A syllogistic softy olden days of yore, Am C G F He read the Philosophy of History, and he's Hegeling for more. Am C G F He hits the road with Diderot and a fair share of Jean-Jacques, Am C G So if you think he don't know frenchmen you can suck on his Balzac. F Fm You know argument is moldable like Plato in his hands, Am G You're barking up the wrong sophiststry if you're challenging this man. Am F They call him Ren� Descarnage, and you'll finally know why, Fm Cdim When it's finito he screams Cogito ergo someone's gonna die! Am G F Fm He splits skulls with his axioms, and a shotgun named Voltaire, Am G F Fm John Locke n' stock, he'll rock your socks, this P-Zombie Slayer... Am B7 e B G D 1p0 A 0h3 3p0 E Am E7 No one wants to go outside when the world is gonna eat'chya F Fm So he'll touch up on tautology and brush up on his Nietzsche. Am E7 You can help out too, whenever you are bored F Fm Just flip out like a philosopher, and put Descartes before the hordes! Am G F Fm He splits skulls with his axioms, and a shotgun named Voltaire, Am G F Fm John Locke n' stock, he'll rock your socks, this P-Zombie Slayer...
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