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byron henderson - posthumous elegy. كلمات الأغنية

[verse]
same vessel, different perspective, lessons learned (uh huh)
pessimistic ideals treated like bridges, just let them burn
two skeletons in my closet kept safe, it’s only right
they were favored, but even i couldn’t save them from lonely nights
used to yearn for second chances
beat myself to oblivion, worries turned into panic attacks with no one to reel mе in
filling the voids of being confused by my huе and shade
a deep sense of mistrust amplified my reclusive nature
grew up watching addicts
so i know it’s hard to keep your eye on the ball through the bottom of glasses
no estimate for how long it’s lasting
the pressure placed on your shoulders, i feel it
your spirit dangling by a thread
it’s k!lling you slowly, i hear it all in your tone
the foam filling the mouth of my classmate as he sat alone in his room
basketball in his grasp waiting to die
much better person than i by my own admission
but abuse will leave you feeling unworthy of your own forgiveness
victim mentalities reign, manipulation is king
toxicity feels wholesome when it’s everything you see
everything ain’t what it seems, these cops ain’t on my side
i can’t trust my neighbors, my reflection hides
i severely lack in the category of pride
i ain’t competitive in the slightest
misdiagnosed deep rooted problems i’m bound to die with
i know plenty who’d be excited
only had three friends my entire life
and if your god labeled me rotten, wouldn’t even try to fight it
listen
one of my friends said, “don’t waste words on the folks that deserve your silence
i pray one day you’re strong enough to learn to preserve your violence”
healing ain’t the same for all of us, you see, some never do
some people call it luck, so many are misguided
never been insecure, but had bouts with self doubt
self harm was an itch i couldn’t scratch that’s still felt now
if i get sober, i’ll probably cry tears over
all of my friends been depressed, almost like society chose us
i heard it through the grapevine, my soul was cursed when i was late nine
my demons know where my father stays, so it’s hard to say what my homie meant when he said to me, “you give off marvin g_ye vibes”
tried to not let my overthinking ruin a great time
fifteen minutes later, i held his hand as he lay dying
the art of life & death, i guess i’m plagued by it
i find it hard to stay quiet
his mother had a drink that led to more, which led to more
and the last one led to the morgue, her sun set as his casket lowered
folks gained a little power and then became tyrants
long as you’re paid, you pretend to never be fazed by it
that ain’t the path for me, constant displays of apathy for being american
on a pedestal, lacking remorse
the laughing stock of our species
a massive profit for selling out and then selling me short
won’t settle for feces
the branches broke, but blood is still where the leaves be
possession taking hold while history screams, “repeat me!”
feel like i’m keith lee, what is a limit?
no one is beneath me, nowhere to hide (yeah, yeah)
my light, you won’t dim it
wherever the peace be is where i reside (yeah, yeah)
forever a hero at some point, forever a villain to someone
whatever your feelings, let me reassure you, i’ll be fine
grew tired of wasting time and living with race in mind
undermining the path i’d take
like i won’t snap and lap them with only my racing mind
ten times out of nine, i’m wide awake, but the rear view stays behind
fully prepared to fall, so it’s only for the climb i brace
few inches away from dying when i took that leap
leave it to me to be thinking i’m doing it wrong
orbital fractures, i’m tasting my t__th
internal bleeding at school when alone
lost my first home back in 2015
scars healing, but the damage isn’t
manifesting i manage with it
three suicide attempts due to exhaustion missed the mark
fourth time had a plan to hit it, but never came to be
glad my baby ain’t the same as me
even if i never feel again, i’d still take it over living angrily
five years sober, ducts too dry to cry tears over
what a thing to see
when i look at al, in reality, it’s nothing more than a mirror aimed at me
all the scars and the thoughts burned in your mind, beware
your past essential regarding your growth
your present is where you place all your hope
though the future ain’t promised, tomorrow’s near
may all your fears cease
folks’ inner turmoil ain’t ours to bear
regardless of peoples’ beliefs, their burdens ain’t ours to share
yeah

- byron henderson

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