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deadpan - www كلمات الأغنية

[intro]
i’m at the edge of the world

[verse 1]
time is ticking, it’s just a hunch
mask on, trudging through the sludge
__‘s world, what is to be done?
lenin didn’t write that sh_t for fun
cold winters, go missing, snow_stricken
chrome_river_dipping dome spinners
go figure, oh sh_t
post_globalist hope grifter—i know, i know, “his soul’s different”
grow livid, old, timid, and broke, picking at bones
‘til the, ‘til the pitiful abode is so sick and swollen, that i’m living alone, b_tch
[verse 2]
shot straight, with her chest, shook my whole sternum
all those bridges took a toll, but you won’t burn ‘em
inside repeating words, no bo burnham
don’t know ways to cope, but i won’t learn ‘em
fossilized figures in a rigid stone circle
monetized tripping over simple faux hurdles
long short of it is torturous
twisted form of love wasn’t shown verbal
never said it then led him to question every sign of life
handed the answer when the predator set its sights
f_ck a petty fight, night terrors ending in a flight
at this point, no amount of growth could suffice
no amount of growth could suffice
wonder was it enough? but that’s life
got accustomed to pure parasitic fright
dusk fell and my vision turned white

[bridge]
stuck in the
but still on the cusp
deep in the core, but still on the cusp
saw that sh_t for what it was
everything around me’s dust
everything’s covered in love
covered in love
i’m not the one, hot to the touch
hot to the touch
impermanent dusk
said i was one, said i was one, covered in dust
but i’m not the one
stuck in impermanent dusk
i was in flux, i was in love, still on the cusp
[verse 3]
blinded and found bliss suppressed in a bed of truths
unraveled the linen spools, core gestures were resolute
unhidden jewels threatened vices and left lifeless fists from which the pious wrestled loot
untenable views scribbled in leather suits at hickory desks where the pen is plumed
modern_midcentury room littered with leopard tooth prints and wax moons
celestial runes, mecha boots, and decorative traditional tattoos
what a special room
regret starts to climb, blush floods, setting is flash_proof
lip lines left impressed cardamine imprints in matte blooms, and blooms
home became a grove of brittle rhododendron petals
wish i hated you, but truth is, i might crater, so alone and sentimental
once in a blue luna there were hydrangeas replaced with cloven heads of devils
placed i’ve loved forever said, “bye, stranger,”
the bond it broke was never special
never special

[outro]
i’ve been running, running
running, running
i’ve been running, running

- deadpan

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