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Practice so I can hear myself...
Sometimes I feel like I'm not human, this mask of flesh is hiding my ruin, the ropes, just never seem to loosen, gradually taking space, slowly consuming, this must be the impending doom that's been looming, coming to a boil, brewing, nonchalantly becoming a natural anthem, these ghosts and these phantoms, the past is something haunting, ever so daunting, spawning a shortfall of belonging, it gets exhausting, all these worn out thoughts, advance into worn out days, urokinase, the fact of the matter is my time left here is grave, so these seconds left, I try to capture and save, the abridgement of praise, has me unfazed, cudgel my brain, it happens every now and again, beard the lion in his den, come on, come on, come on, come on in, the craftsmen yielding a poison tipped pen, shouting out the here and then, heartless, maybe, so I must be tin, my assumption is to just take it on the chin, consistently being spread too thin...
But it's ok, when you are down and out, then you can see the world and what it's about, figure out your route, there is no top, if you've never been to the bottom, most people would rather roll over and play possum, ain't that awesome?, weaving through life's slaloms, everyone is a fighter, it's in our atoms to topple those columns, everything that sinks floats, vivacity is exacting when going for broke,
If I'm the devil, a piece of you is too, in relation, we aren't giving more than we can chew, there's a lot we try to hide, try to subdue, built up and finally released, realization that that sensation was long overdue, at times you have to wonder if it's all just a waste, but life is a puzzle, waiting for you to put the pieces into place, I'm like Mr. Glass, breakable, but music is a reflection of who I am, my soul, I don't just wanna be with you in a song, or when I perform at a show, I wanna walk with you till the end of that winding road, an enigma for you to decode, a potentate de-robed many moons ago, ride the waves, the highs and lows, but as far as that goes, most times at least I am willing to disclose, when the floor collapses and I'm feeling exposed, enclosed, letting it all out, disposed, seems like it's my oath, a growing oak, from the undergrowth, rocking the boat, for what I am, for what you are, don't let yourself lower the bar, a lot of times, we are all caught under the radar, grip, grab the handlebars, let life be your memoir, I've seen the good and evil, that balance of who we are as people, a beautifully painted easel, god and the devil sown together with another needle, enfeebled, from the nest that we wrestle, just another message of distress sent out from a vessel,
Giving you inches, with the great expectation that you'd take it for miles, pushing shopping carts down empty aisles, what I've compiled, barely even makes it into the lowest percentile, I just want to make something that is worthwhile, instead of being the shadow cast for your sundial, I'm at my final, wit's end, coming round the bend, over-extension, dead-end (dead-en)....
- Genre
- Chill-Hop