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ephelant & time - how to sew wounds with words lyrics
[verse 1: time]
sometimes i think about leaving, six under the ground
i just wanna be content, i dont want a crown
i just want to sell out a small venue or three
i just want to feel respected for just being me
yes i know all the shamanic answers, my peace is in myself
but it’s hard to dissipate negativity and guilt
i want enough money to help out my family
then spread it to my community and everyone who ran with me
i know it takes hard work, i know it takes practice
and yes i’ve come a long way from my styrofoam mattress
in a world full of actors, i’m just looking for direction
art is vulnerable, i’m not looking for protection
this week has been heavy, sometimes the rain falls hard
i used my notebook as an umbrella, it stained these bars
sometimes it rains venom, sometimes it rains knives
these words are my blood, and blood don’t lie
pharoah, grim reaper, tarot, pull the card
these words are st-tches, helping me to sew the scars x2
[hook: time]
these words are st-tches
this is how you sew wounds with words
[verse 2: time]
and i remember it like it was just last week
dribbling my basketball through the park, the burgers was cheap
29 cents for regular, 39 cents for cheese
but i haven’t eaten death since i was 21 in life i believe
so much changed my neighborhoods gone from gentrification
from false foreclosures to criminal inflation
but shout out to the squatters who still ain’t vacating
but some things haven’t changed like the radio stations
still bowing to the money, while the community is waiting
there’s a billion people out there with the same goals
so failure is an option, but dont let it effect your soul
failures gonna happen, success comes to those who get up
others turn to victims, addicted to blame, that’s why they’re stuck
know that you’re unique, know that you’re deep
know that your 3rd eye shines indigo when you sleep
i know you deserve a throne because you got a crown chakra
it shines purple in the dark, i’m sipping green tea matcha
we are energy, i used to slide around in my socks
shocking my mom while we listened to the king of pop
slipping on scratch tickets abandoned on the boulevard
right next to the old donut shop where they’re too stale to pull apart
the teachers used to tell my skull was hard and that soul was dark
i guess that helped me when i got jumped, little man like bonapart
pharoah, grim reaper, tarot, pull the card
these words are st-tches, helping me to sew the scars
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