137 - At Nile's Edge текст песни

Текст песни At Nile's Edge - 137



Everywhere that I look, I see another character in a book
And I know for laymen it can be so hard to understand that
Truly, you either grandstand or stand grand
Ooh, I've seen the sitcom-livers
Every episode is the same as the next
Despite the strength of my liver
Lips fear complacence more than absinthe
Tryna capture pain on a piece of paper
And light the way for the paths that taper
They told me pen beats the sword
But none conveyed, it's a handleless saber
Teething, don't mind waiting for what's to come
There are leeches, but I'm wading in this marsh's tum
I am making a concerted effort to better myself
Making great progress in recent years
Pertaining to intrusive thoughts
And strides were made in quelling my compulsions and obsessions
What my hands have wrought is testament to channeling fixations
Since a young man fought to stymie
All of the roots of lust and fear
Figuring out that apathy can be a slew or instrument to bear
The more that I've mapped the route of success
The more that I've learned of its true foundation
The greats are defined by amount of abstraction
From Kantian representation
But sometimes I feel I'm unraveling one wrap at a time
Solely dust comes out of both my tear ducts
'Cause mummies can't fucking cry
Reading all red pages in this book of pain
Ether told me what it tells all sages
Scribe and thy woes shall wane
And I'd like to expound on a term that I've passed around
And coined symbol fixation, give your attention
To my ensuing explanation
We gather money for the sake of accruement
We marry another, forgetting the union
We strive for a streak while forsaking the purpose
We live out a holiday, losing the meaning
We fight for a grade and discard all retention
We savor the wrapping much more than the present
We focus on tool and reject its utility
Lost in tradition or drunk on the sentiment
Sour moods can beget sweet tones
Inquietude bears a strange allure
Bones broken to a metronome
But no brine in my ducts to conjure
My flesh is a sieve
That my youth does fade through
Gauze on my wounds, but the ink seeped right through
Your reflection's always skewed
When searching for it in another's eyes
I am more than the sum of what my kin or kith surmise
If I had to glean my worth from the change in another's visage
Then I'd count my success by the smiles that I garner while in passage
Some can't see the sequoia in the seed
That doesn't mean that I must plead
In fact, I'm my healthiest when I unclench fists
And I let him lead
Loneliness is a room full of people
Each soul with a heart out of reach
It's a cry unattended and a kiss that's rescinded
It's a church with no ears for the sermon you preach
Loneliness is a puzzle piece that's fought to find its match
But, 'spite its efforts, still remains a runt of the mosaic
It's a rip within a quilt that's strived to find its fitting patch
It's a line midst metered verse that still remains prosaic
Loneliness is stranger's sweet smile
Fluttering heart from a soft hand's touch
The sweet chirps of a songbird on windowsill
Fading in a short while, slipping invariably from clutch
Flying to grace another place with all its heart can trill
Every day begins another battle to stay balanced
I feel burnout prowling, waiting for my safety fence to fail
I inquired into whether, I would weather feather
Anubis told me the weight of all my talents wouldn't tilt the fucking scale
Hoping I could make an anthem for the tired, lonely souls
Pen has barely scratched the surface though when it comes to these woes
Whether you are searching for some respite or a true love's kiss
Raise your fucking glasses to the air when I say this
Bleeding as I pick up all the shards of my shattered soul
But I must say my reflection still is whole



Авторы: Alejandro Grant


137 - At Nile's Edge
Альбом At Nile's Edge
дата релиза
30-09-2022




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