The thoughts in my head

Witty · 03-27-2014, 08:51 PM

I've been doing this shit for such a long time
Now it's automatic, I never pick the wrong rhyme
The prick who brings the pain, there's a river in my brain
Flowing quicker than the liquor in my veins
Making me warm while I shiver in the rain
Art is frivolous and what it delivers is inane
When it's too hard to remember shit, you're too scarred to reminisce
You have two hearts, cut in two parts by the truth's shards of shattered bliss
Nothing but pain, when anger is all that remains
They call it insane, I call it trying not to vomit as I crawl in the flames
Nothing's worse than when the bubble of a love has burst
And reacting in anger is the only way it doesn't hurt
You struggle, search, for a way to escape as you fear you'll crumble first
I shapeshift, I can make you want to love and make you want to raise fists
I can make you praise the God above, and I can make you fucking HATE shit
Every day of the week when I awake from a sleep, I'm a different person
It's like, each day is a scene and far away in my dreams I'm just rehearsing
Yet lately it seems the shit's reversing, yesterday I was Mr Gray, obscene
I was listless, cursing, lips were pursing, didn't have shit to say, just pissed and hurting
Today I'm Mr Perfect...hurray...guess it's the perks of decay in my twisted nerves
Not saying it's a curse but if it ain't then it's from birth, a function in my brain that didn't work
Addicted to addiction, when it comes to rhymes yeah I kick it fluid but I'm sick of doing fiction
Imprisoned in this prism and the prison food is sickening, vomiting these simple, useless, visions
Through barriers, restrictions, living through my characters, vicarious affliction
Judas Iscariot of diction.

03-27-2014, 08:51 PM	#1
Witty Lime Life Join Date: Jan 2013 Posts: 16,978 Battle Record: 30-41 Accomplishments - Only Slightly Retarded Champed - Lyric Olympics - Summer Classic Rep Power: 85235118	The thoughts in my head I've been doing this shit for such a long time Now it's automatic, I never pick the wrong rhyme The prick who brings the pain, there's a river in my brain Flowing quicker than the liquor in my veins Making me warm while I shiver in the rain Art is frivolous and what it delivers is inane When it's too hard to remember shit, you're too scarred to reminisce You have two hearts, cut in two parts by the truth's shards of shattered bliss Nothing but pain, when anger is all that remains They call it insane, I call it trying not to vomit as I crawl in the flames Nothing's worse than when the bubble of a love has burst And reacting in anger is the only way it doesn't hurt You struggle, search, for a way to escape as you fear you'll crumble first I shapeshift, I can make you want to love and make you want to raise fists I can make you praise the God above, and I can make you fucking HATE shit Every day of the week when I awake from a sleep, I'm a different person It's like, each day is a scene and far away in my dreams I'm just rehearsing Yet lately it seems the shit's reversing, yesterday I was Mr Gray, obscene I was listless, cursing, lips were pursing, didn't have shit to say, just pissed and hurting Today I'm Mr Perfect...hurray...guess it's the perks of decay in my twisted nerves Not saying it's a curse but if it ain't then it's from birth, a function in my brain that didn't work Addicted to addiction, when it comes to rhymes yeah I kick it fluid but I'm sick of doing fiction Imprisoned in this prism and the prison food is sickening, vomiting these simple, useless, visions Through barriers, restrictions, living through my characters, vicarious affliction Judas Iscariot of diction. __________________ He listens to voices inside of his mind Explicit and poisonous violent crime.