You're so brave the way you say stuff at a microphone
Inside your home, play it and then put it on the internet
Looking out the window checking weather must be nice and all
When both your eyes are kinda like kaleidoscopes and mind a long
Lightning rod, you rhyme and draw...
(Yeah but I have to. I'm not really good at anything else)
Honestly, you're so creative and I'm jealous when
I could never sing, draw or do something as embarrassing
(Right...)
(Have you tried?)
No, I know my armor very thin
And sparring, never parry swings, so a fairly dim
Future is ahead I think
When I'm near convinced I'll just grow a pair of wings from a momentary wind
And hit a shooting star
Or something like a moving car, you're so lucky to be productive enough at doing art
I don't mean to come off sucky-uppy
But Dreamsomnia was fucking lovely, I think snoozing on your music's wrong
So the reason you're so odd and moody
Eludes me, you been prolly locked in your room watching the horror movies
Too often, only reply with a nod when
I compliment a song, I get it I guess you don't wanna talk, being rude to me
Um, sorry? Is my mouth working?
Mouth check one two three, I'm not a loud person
I hope I don't come off as a proud jerk when persons get
Personal my words don't work with certainty
And I swear I'm freaking out internally, don't take it personally
I'm a person, see, the nerves of steel not firm as your belief
Prefer the cursor clicks and words traversing circuitry
You might infer the rhyming words won't work conversing, we
Burgundy, hooded up
Thanks for saying I'm good at stuff, I'd be blushing if I had blood gushing from heart throbs
But I don't mean to write only dark songs
If you're feeling low, I'll high five your arms off, scar palms
My lip stay busted
And the spit taste rusted in the spring rain, I been waiting

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