BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Your Prop
- With every “hello” there’s a chill
- bellowing an echo
- in the back of my throat.
- Toak, drift into smoke,
- floating on a cloud of my own.
- Drifting, linking hands and drinking,
- until we slip under the covers
- and smother each other
- in the feelings that we harbor.
- Your heart is my target and
- I’m aiming to be forever A part of it.
- I just hope we last, letting time fly past,
- not causing a draft; not even enough to
- move a feather off its path.
- I want to grow old with you.
- We’ll share laughs, baths, fuck it...
- I want to split every asset in half!
- Cause as long as I have you I’ll feel whole.
- You are wrapped tightly around my soul
- and I hope you never let go!
- Just hold until your bound and sold.
- The jolts feel like lightning bolts
- that have struck through to volts…
- Making every hair on my skin poke up
- as if they were debating a vote.
- You’re making my heart
- beat until I pole vault!
- Into a state of shock cause
- I feel like I’m gonna pop,
- and drop in to your arms,
- until my knees feel weak and I flop...
- Willingly become your prop!
- I fucked up now my head is spun like a spinning top.
- Our bubble popped, my impatient tendencies
- got the better of me, rendered the agenda,
- I became un tender. I didn’t mean to offend ya,
- I surrender, I didn’t pretend what I felt for you at the time,
- I was just in my prime state of mind
- where I felt I was right, but I wrong all the time.
- I was kind, I adored you,
- You over whelmed me,
- That’s what I thought of you,
- I try to make up the break up
- but you didn’t give a fuck.
- Now I’m set off in a rut, I did fuck up…
- but at least I can admit my fuck up when I do fuck up.
- Which is a lot, but I fought
- after I powered the ball in the wrong court,
- because the more I want
- the more I thought about what I had caught.
- Which was special... Even made me pick up my pencil,
- which is rare these days because it’s skill I define dispensable.
- But FUCK IT, if you want to be my Damsel
- I’m going to fucking handle it without a tangle,
- I’m done, dumb, raging for things I done,
- summed up to the world’s worst cunt.
- I tried but now there’s no shame in giving up, because
- I’m tired, I’ll try to try but get fried,
- the amount of shit’s I give are defiant
- on a scale, heights of the sky’s brightest titan.
- I mightn’t fight for these relationships anymore,
- like I said the more and more I get sore,
- because I just fall to the floor
- the weight is too heavy bare,
- the air is thicker than my skin, that’s so fair,
- so it soaks in and I require skin care.
- This same shit is a record, in cycle, I blare,
- playing through the headphones I ware, it’s delightful
- sitting on the chair reconciling
- with things I’ve previously shared.
- What will I conjure up next?
- Who will offend in this card deck?
- My context ricochets like light
- when it reveals its complex reflecting effects.
- Check.. Check.. Check..
- Let’s snap out of this depressing dialect,
- its no use when you’re pri med
- to dilute the bio wep red necks.
- I’m a bio wep red neck
- with the effect to make you feel this chill
- when I play the violin that’s resting at my neck.
- Pre text. You bitch, are more or less fuss in a mess,
- dust which I just blew off but it didn’t choke me to death.
- It only made me cough, I’m still able to stir this broff,
- in my loft cause I drop froth on you so you’ve
- fogged off in the mist you profit off. YOU’RE LOSS.
- My cost is multi in another ten or few two many years,
- and your moulting, my eyes opened now your fucking revolting.
By Anonymous
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