Lyrics Sweet Truth - James An

Give me something so sweet I can almost taste it
I could never fake something so real
Give me something so sweet that it's almost tasteless
I could never get high off of love
Candy's all I need so hide that s for me
Self-diagnosis please don't question it
Take out borderlines now that's an order
Candy's all I need so hide that s for me
How do we measure illness in a society that's already ill
Ruminations I succumb to on another slump plus
I'm getting numb to all the f I gave just to be someone I'm not
Better yet something they want but to be blunt
F that motherf up drown that motherf down
Pathologizing the religious other just to keep your crown
Made of sanctimonious sapphires high on saccharine
Sacrilegious hegemony look that s up if you nah mean
Still believe we make our own disasters yeah
I do not f with the master narrative of yours
Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed
What makes your god any less made up than his
Still believe we make our own disasters yeah
I do not f with the master narrative of yours
Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed
What makes your god any less made up than his
Give me something so sweet I can almost taste it
I could never fake something so real
Give me something so sweet that it's almost tasteless
I could never get high off of love
Candy's all I need so hide that s for me
Self-diagnosis please don't question it
Take out borderlines now that's an order
Candy's all I need so hide that s for me
Normativity has become the norm does this make me normal
Even if we have these misgivings in common
To point out the false dichotomy of right and wrong
Good and bad me and you we exist in a vacuum
Segregated by white supremacy they buy my way to heaven
Indulgences we once enjoyed remnants of what's forgiven
Privileged images of silence perpetuating violence I guess
Life is what you make of it I ain't making any sense am I
Still believe we make our own disasters yeah
I do not f with the master narrative of yours
Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed
What makes your god any less made up than his
Still believe we make our own disasters yeah
I do not f with the master narrative of yours
Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed
What makes your god any less made up than his