Paroles Yes, It Hurts... de Gruvis Malt
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- Artiste: Gruvis Malt15931
- Chanson: Yes, It Hurts...
- Langue:
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Textes et Paroles de Yes, It Hurts...
Concentrate on nothing
So that the somethings are left with no food
Yet my mood turns the truths into prominent enemies
Armies of sketch diaries and scrap papers
Taper down and puzzle it together
In present time I live by the clock
Angrily staring at a locked wall socket I sitting undertall
Three prongs and all
Being the source of this hunger
I long for these things
The mediums to create myself through
Without the proper means to obtain such materials
I must remain suspended in particles
And refrain from creative thought
That has no choice but to be forgotten
Crawling through machines with anger
And into ears with ease
Refrain from ideas that might be forgotten
Capable yet unable
To pullout what has backed up inside
And formed a pulsating mound of rough draft material
This is a mound of speech sound and sight
And the written word
It's full while I scurry trying to find places to spit it out
So I can be empty
And have a trophy to show for my thought
and refrain from forgetting ideas
Looking back my timeline is a circle
And faded in nature a turtle
With a shell to mask the past
Which memory came first and which last?
I recall Texas swimming in the backyard
in grassy agua when it rained hard and
hasing snakes in two leotards: one for pants
the other for head garb
Flash forward and I'm hunting Moorlocks in
Utah more like gremlins in description not seen
by me but by my friend Clinton safari through the
jungleweeds in the outskirts of faculty housing all
that resulted from the outing was a dousing in
delousing powder
Leap years back
And I'm on the trail of snappers, mom did the
laundry while I watched from the windowsill,
a mother left her eggs buried by the picnic table
I met evolution and when she left I smashed
all the eggs
I was able/Abel.
I am hungry
Words and pictures don't form on command
When you are ready
You will take full control of me again
These times when I'm empty
Who is getting blessed
Who is starving like me
Worrying about it
And fearing that it won't return
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