Untitled

What it like being me 

What’s it like to wake up… and be meee…
Is it a cooold… and haaauuunted… fairy-taaaale dreeeaaam?
Every mornin’ I’m fallin’, can’t hear my own screeeaam,
These weeaaak… tears… shake… till my bones wanna breaaak…”

“…I don’t wanna die… I just wanna feel alivvve again…”
So what’s it like?
Ok I’ll stop lying.
So here is what it’s like — a cold empty feelin’, I’m sure you can relate,
It’s depression, almost like a conversational confession
that ends up giving me anxiety and depression,
na I’m messin’ —
more like a suicidal homicidal lesson,
I’ll kill that AW just like it happened on the west end,
he thought he was playin’ with—

—but it’s deeper than a vendetta, it’s a ghost in my head,
It’s the rage of every moment that I never really said.
It’s the punch that never landed, but it’s bruisin’ my chest,
It’s the thought of gettin’ even but I’m fightin’ the rest.

It’s a mind full of storms that I can’t out-run,
Every memory’s a bullet but I’m carryin’ the gun.
Every heartbeat cracks like it’s breakin’ the scene,
Like I’m trapped in a rerun of a life that’s obscene.

It’s the ache, it’s the shake, it’s the ice in my veins,
It’s the tears that don’t fall ’cause they froze from the pain.
It’s the scream in my throat I can’t get out clean,
And the fear that I’m livin’ in a permanent dream.”

Sad rap and fast Really Sad Uk accent Modern soul deep tenor pop innovator vocals innovator pop studio textures cowbells