Isn’t it supposed to feel good, now we way too far apart talking on the phone are you feeling understood? Isn’t it supposed to be fun, quickly turned around, now we have a gun to our motherfucking heads, babe. Suddenly soulless and aloof, time to finally fade out, now when I see you in the way you dress I find proof. Isn’t it supposed to be easy, my superficiality is leading the way away, babe. She thinks I’m a genius or simply too stupid, just give me a minute, please just give me a minute. Isn’t it supposed to be easy? Isn’t it supposed to feel good? Isn’t it supposed to be easy? Isn’t it supposed to feel good?

(She got me slipping, slipping up she got me slipping, she got me slipping up) I want that sugar yeah, that’s on me. She smells like a baby, start calling her baby. I want that sugar yeah, that’s on me. She smells like a baby, start calling her baby. She does my hair, I’m starting to care. She wants control, I’m backing off. You’re on your own. Look at my tips, they ‘bout to split, what can I afford, my ass is broke. She does my hair, I’m starting to care 2 Look at my tips, they ‘bout to split, what can I afford, my ass is broke. She does my hair, I’m starting to care (She got me slipping up)

Hoping for better, a dream of being free to come undone My falsettos may contain lies, and even the brute force at any given time they say is ill-advised. Rather have you pretending that you are one of them when they are pretending to be saving lives by killing time. We’re talking about mirages and camouflages just like Bey said back in 98, for the good, for the bad, for the right, for the wrong all you need is a gateway. Expectations of telling right from wrong out the door, my songs simply paranoia play dates, impromptu nose dives, now look at me saving lives I’m saving lives by killing (time). Decades eyes closed, foreshadowing of things to come. Hoping for better, a dream of being free to come undone. Hoping for better, a dream of being free. I’m speeding up, no breaks, I’m maxing out the master fader, distortion my top and bottom layers. Seppuku at times and then a dragon slayer slash, insomniac like fucking ball player, see, like a pendulum it’s either fight or flight, ain’t no holy days, perpetuum mobile. Guess my instincts were sacrificed along the way. What if money trees truly the perfect place for shade? Decades eyes closed, foreshadowing of things to come. Hoping for better, a dream of being free to come undone. Hoping for better, a dream of being free. My falsetto is the fucking truth, yeah My inconsistencies only weird to you, yeah Would you mind if I put your ass on mute, yeah? My shoe about to meet your glutes, yeah? Bet you miss me since I was the glue, yeah? Out of the blue I graduated, life saturated, like a drivers seat, I was designated, destined for greatness, man all these cliché’s but still: but fuck the haterz. I’m speeding up, no breaks, I’m maxing out the master fader, distortion my top and bottom layers. Seppuku at times and then a dragon slayer slash, insomniac like fucking ball player, see, like a pendulum it’s either fight or flight, ain’t no holy days, perpetuum mobile. Guess my instincts were sacrificed along the way. What if money trees truly the perfect place for shade?

I don’t want to be praised for the growth I’ve made. My narcissistic practice turned mistress to the gaze. As we speak not just to communicate. As we speak to break. I mean, everything, what do you mean „break what“? Everything, break rules, breaking the law. Breaking habits, cycles, patterns, yeah patterns. As in having a breakthrough. Break whatever’s in front of you and accelerate. Breaking off a piece, catching a break. But also in the sense of breaking down. Breaking into tears? Yes, breaking into tears. I wanna break into tears and bend language, I wanna break and bend my mothers tongue, I wanna break words. I can’t keep track of our inventions as of late. Our narcissistic practice, on stages we amaze. As we speak not just to communicate. As we speak to break. I don’t want to be praised for the growth I’ve made. My narcissistic practice turned mistress to the gaze.

She think I'm a genius or simply too stupid. Just give me a minute (please).

Everything is up for grabs. Hold your own and make it last. The tennis courts, the puddle in the rare pothole. The tip of the glass tower in the north looking down on us all. The laboratories at the shores of the lake and their centrifuges, made only to separate. The tunnels, factories, buildings emptied and filled, tv-stations and all domains for sale. Suddenly street names up for debate. Suddenly street names up for debate. Everything is up for grabs. Hold your own and make it last. Dare to even go this far. Leave the best you’ve ever had. Everything is up for grabs. Hold your own and make it last. Dare to even go this far. Leave the best you’ve ever had.

I was a child when I was clipped, swallowing indignity to garner praise. Gutted like a beast, gutted like a beast, gutted like a beast. Now I unveil my anger on a whim, back then, back then I must have been a sleep, I must have been asleep. Oh, lost love, no love lost. Butterflys cannot thrive they only die in the belly of the beast. Now I will admit: The fear of what I’m becoming haunts me, always, it haunts me, oh. I was a child when I was clipped, and I will admit it was difficult, to push beyond the cynical. Oh, lost love, no love lost. Butterflys cannot thrive they only die in the belly of the beast. Yeah, I will admit: The fear of what I’m becoming haunts me, always, it haunts me, oh. I was a child when I was clipped, and I will admit it was difficult, to push beyond the cynical.

A blemish? On what? Fuck if I know, shit. On manicured and artificial meadows, that’s a different kinda glow. Bunch of times tried leaving and came close, you called me weak for struggling to deal with all the chitty chats and the shit shows. A good hand in a glass safe and that shit’s sealed closed. I’m not he, she but we, and we tend to exchange blows. No more keeping us on our tippy toes, by now I’m not surprised that our libido is the next thing to go. Wake up, we’re out of gas, it’s our darkest night, we kinda high, driving, about to crash our mother’s car. Where’s that 101 on how to get tough fast? We put our hands in our lap, we rock our demons to sleep. We put our hands in our lap, we rock our demons to sleep. And right before the crash, it is me and the ones living in my head. And right before the crash, it is me and the ones living in my head. And right before the crash, it is me and the ones living in my head. My head.