It starts with one word. One word to upset delicate nerves. The insecurities of my life. To the end of my core. To the bottom of myself. The shamefulness of hiding behind special education door rooms. But I got my whole life to lead. I'm still breathing at the bottom. But I wish it wasn't mine. Been force to pretend to wear a grim smile. It's been eating me up for years and years. Trying to play catch up. But I always see the dark side of things. I told you a thousand times I said I'm fine. Suffer in rhyme to the blinding rage. Suffer in rhyme it goes on and on. Disability pulls the strings in my head. Word by word and it's fitting in my skin. The worst part of me is actually all of me. What would I give to be normal. To get my head on straight. It makes me feel how small I really am. Just a crooked arrow. Why cant I screw my head on straight. Taking things far too seriously. It goes deeper in the bone. I've given it too much control. All I see is the fear expecting ahead. Surfeited of being corrected. By the world around. But we speak in different tongues. And I remember. To wear my wounds. And I refuse. Refusing to heal.
Track Name: Letter #48
I woke up on the wrong side of the pavement. I see the city skyline reflect patches of my reality. And never the whole picture. I have reached the peak of my existence in my darkest days. And these street lights will bring me to my next concrete bed. Chiseling my own tomb stone. I wish I could say there was something in the air. It wasn't a friendly inclusive or a warm atmosphere. What kind of God would lead me to the question. Are my days just black and blue. Maybe I'm fed up or maybe I'm just cheap. But there is less faith in each passing sleep. All the letters are adding up to 48. The dry blood and the dirt on the black ink. I'll be the knots in your stomach . I'll be the 50 cents in your pocket. I have reached the peak of my existence in my darkest days. And these street lights will bring me to my next concrete bed. He is swimming in a river of dept. He is swimming upstream. Strength weak within. Every passing hour. Every passing car. Pass out in a stranger's room. The sound of the train tracks will be his lullaby's. He is trapped in his own hell. I'm begging for change instead of begging for my life. It's too late to make amends. I brim my black hat and I raise my sign. I'm a dropout. Because in the end. I'm a burn out. We walk on cursed roads. I'm a dropout. My darkest days. And I burned out. Are still ahead of me.
Track Name: New Skeletons
I raise above from my ashes. For the time I could feel a new dawn breaking in me. I could feel life flowing though me. Can you feel the static? Can you hear me though the distortion? I let my bones rest easy again. I could finally swallow the flames that were building in my throat. A wave washes over me in silence. Maintaining what I have left. Bearing my trophy scars. Wearing them like badges of honor. Everyone has a price. Breathing in the white clouds. Freezing out the windshield windows. I got some cracked skin. But my nerves go untouched. Raising the bar. Another learning growth. No more symphonies. For bastard friends, for washed up fucks. Running away. From the cheating hearts
Track Name: End/Less
The greed that runs though my veins. The blood quickly turns dry. Still waiting for the day that I will still taste heaven. Losing faith in my surroundings. Is this what's killing me? That makes me want to unscrew my head. Corrupted by the chaos of human nature. Drown in the shallow of my own beliefs. Another notch under the belt. It won't satisfied the hunger. From the top it seems nothing is good enough. To fulfill the negative space between. This fate will end up destroying me. Filling the void with unrest wants and desired needs. The degree of inordinance. Corruption over passion drilled so deep it can never be returned. A vicious thing to a fellow man. Let the void swallow my chest. I have it all, setting for no less. My long desire of reaching satisfaction. The vicious cycle of being unsatisfied. I hear it in a distance . I can hear it in the airwaves. The bottomless pit exhausts my spirit. An endless effort to satisfy the thirst. The eternal flame of motivation, the desperation of feeling complete. Reaching for something that will never reach back. Like a wolf cry's for the moon's touch. What is left of a man when the darkness sustains? A yearning desire of ignorance suffering. Intoxicated with the madness of human nature. I'll keep screaming at the moon. It's the least I could do.