WEEK TWO: OBJECTIVE 0-1 vs EVICTION 0-1 OBJECTIVE WINS

Eviction · 11-22-2020, 12:08 PM

Connections are something that’s hard to achieve.
True colors revealed, hues you wouldn’t believe.
No one is genuine, they have something up their sleeve.
If you win, they get jealous and show us their greed.
I’ll never shake someone’s hand, learned as I got older,
That most of them have the devil’s advocate on their shoulder.
And trust is a connection you can’t solder.
They’ll use that same hand to pull out a heart that grew colder,
with ease, they can dig into your skin.
What good is evil if it’s not getting you a win.
Even when the devil is gone they’re still living through a sin.
These arms are sharp as katana blades, so I’m committed to the end.
In this reality, there’s no such thing as a helping hand.
To me turning on someone seems like a selfish plan.
That’s why I would never extend my arms to a jealous man.
Hypnotize me with evil, I’m not falling for the devil’s scam.
Even when the music lowers an octave, we should band together.
Find someone you love and hold their hand forever.
Fighting can lead to a storm, hatred is a drastic measure.
Bad weather should be a lesson, but it fails to register.
A petty argument can turn a relationship bitter.
Different political views, even your grandma is ready to pull the trigger.
Instead of pointing your finger at the bigger picture,
Focus on the end goal, and come out of the other side as a victor.
One hand gripping the steering wheel, the other one just emptied a bottle.
An accident waiting to happen, he just reached full throttle.
Crashed into a Buick, the death’s at his hands was a hard pill to swallow.
He’s haunted by demon’s he has to learn to fix,
Before he lands in the dark abyss, he knows hell, he falls in the burning pit.
There has to be an alternative to a tourniquet, he earned it…
Maybe it was a nervous tic, he felt like everything he touches turns to shit.
So I guess you’re going to be paranoid until they shut your casket.
When a strong bond breaks it’s fucking tragic,
They’ll stab you in the back and won’t even try to mask it.
Or shake your hand, because that’s as good as being dumped in acid.
You’ll never believe this is the same hand responsible for making art.
Because it’s also the same hand responsible for breaking hearts.
This hand is always searching for a canvas it can take apart.
Destroying someone’s life work, because theirs was defaced from the start.
The hand behind the criticism is the same one behind the gun smoke.
Then you get in the front row to see the reaction when I’m provoked.
You’re witness to the hellfire I unload, a reflection you see in the bloodstone.
The only way I know how to retaliate is with a brushstroke.

11-22-2020, 12:08 PM	#6
Eviction Detained Join Date: Oct 2020 Posts: 1,838 Battle Record: 16-11 Rep Power: 0	Connections are something that’s hard to achieve. True colors revealed, hues you wouldn’t believe. No one is genuine, they have something up their sleeve. If you win, they get jealous and show us their greed. I’ll never shake someone’s hand, learned as I got older, That most of them have the devil’s advocate on their shoulder. And trust is a connection you can’t solder. They’ll use that same hand to pull out a heart that grew colder, with ease, they can dig into your skin. What good is evil if it’s not getting you a win. Even when the devil is gone they’re still living through a sin. These arms are sharp as katana blades, so I’m committed to the end. In this reality, there’s no such thing as a helping hand. To me turning on someone seems like a selfish plan. That’s why I would never extend my arms to a jealous man. Hypnotize me with evil, I’m not falling for the devil’s scam. Even when the music lowers an octave, we should band together. Find someone you love and hold their hand forever. Fighting can lead to a storm, hatred is a drastic measure. Bad weather should be a lesson, but it fails to register. A petty argument can turn a relationship bitter. Different political views, even your grandma is ready to pull the trigger. Instead of pointing your finger at the bigger picture, Focus on the end goal, and come out of the other side as a victor. One hand gripping the steering wheel, the other one just emptied a bottle. An accident waiting to happen, he just reached full throttle. Crashed into a Buick, the death’s at his hands was a hard pill to swallow. He’s haunted by demon’s he has to learn to fix, Before he lands in the dark abyss, he knows hell, he falls in the burning pit. There has to be an alternative to a tourniquet, he earned it… Maybe it was a nervous tic, he felt like everything he touches turns to shit. So I guess you’re going to be paranoid until they shut your casket. When a strong bond breaks it’s fucking tragic, They’ll stab you in the back and won’t even try to mask it. Or shake your hand, because that’s as good as being dumped in acid. You’ll never believe this is the same hand responsible for making art. Because it’s also the same hand responsible for breaking hearts. This hand is always searching for a canvas it can take apart. Destroying someone’s life work, because theirs was defaced from the start. The hand behind the criticism is the same one behind the gun smoke. Then you get in the front row to see the reaction when I’m provoked. You’re witness to the hellfire I unload, a reflection you see in the bloodstone. The only way I know how to retaliate is with a brushstroke.