Blinds (Narrator's Edition)
Who am I
I listen to cars go by
Remembering that time
I was part of that eager flight
But now I just look through blinds
In my house
Down the street
On the block
In the city
I'm just in my house
Down the street
On the block
For no one hears a thing
We bite our tongues until they bleed
Silently concave forms
Spread across concrete floors
And sigh with no relief
Who am I
I don't want the answer sometimes
Remembering my mind
Before it feared everyday life
And how it shows through my eyes
In my house
Down the street
On the block
In the city
I'm just in my fucking house
Down the street
No one wants to hear me scream
No one wants to hear a Goddamn thing
So I bite our tongues until they bleed
Silently my concave form
Spreads across concrete floors
And sighs with no relief
Unraveling; one thread that holds the seams
My tar soaked lungs that can barely breathe
Flushed cheeks; rapid nerve endings
Oh clench the fists and pound
Till everything falls down
Hide your face until your muscles tense and quake
Someone release me from this Goddamn state
But they never really believe me anyway
What do I know?
Nothin' far as I know
Better suited for the circus or the sideshow
Life is so alive, ain't it
Wonderin' what I could make it
But I'm better suited for the strip, my hips gyrate in sign language
Wise words said so stupidly
So far I've earned death but no eulogy
Ask what do I think
Shut up what are you my shrink
I'll stay writing on white paper with white ink
Black Earth in Black Bile, the block hot
I swag surf through pastel colored lost thoughts
Two-steppin' beside my self-awareness
Then a brass knuckle facelift
BLACK OUT and time stops
(Is this real? Oh no no no
This pain you feel? Oh no no no
Now I'm walkin' down the sleep
Sound asleep, sound asleep
Miles to go, mouths to feed, vows to keep
Caligari Cabinet towers glower over me
As I stumble my way home the sky lay flowers over me
This ol' thing - bitch
Easy takers gettin' fleeced
For the pennies in their pocket, their potato pepper peas
This I know I won't ever be the flavor of the week
I'm better off bein' a paver of the street
For no one hears a thing
So we bite our tongues until they bleed
Silently my concave form
Spreads across concrete floors
And sighs with no relief
I listen to cars go by
Remembering that time
I was part of that eager flight
But now I just look through blinds
In my house
Down the street
On the block
In the city
I'm just in my house
Down the street
On the block
For no one hears a thing
We bite our tongues until they bleed
Silently concave forms
Spread across concrete floors
And sigh with no relief
Who am I
I don't want the answer sometimes
Remembering my mind
Before it feared everyday life
And how it shows through my eyes
In my house
Down the street
On the block
In the city
I'm just in my fucking house
Down the street
No one wants to hear me scream
No one wants to hear a Goddamn thing
So I bite our tongues until they bleed
Silently my concave form
Spreads across concrete floors
And sighs with no relief
Unraveling; one thread that holds the seams
My tar soaked lungs that can barely breathe
Flushed cheeks; rapid nerve endings
Oh clench the fists and pound
Till everything falls down
Hide your face until your muscles tense and quake
Someone release me from this Goddamn state
But they never really believe me anyway
What do I know?
Nothin' far as I know
Better suited for the circus or the sideshow
Life is so alive, ain't it
Wonderin' what I could make it
But I'm better suited for the strip, my hips gyrate in sign language
Wise words said so stupidly
So far I've earned death but no eulogy
Ask what do I think
Shut up what are you my shrink
I'll stay writing on white paper with white ink
Black Earth in Black Bile, the block hot
I swag surf through pastel colored lost thoughts
Two-steppin' beside my self-awareness
Then a brass knuckle facelift
BLACK OUT and time stops
(Is this real? Oh no no no
This pain you feel? Oh no no no
Now I'm walkin' down the sleep
Sound asleep, sound asleep
Miles to go, mouths to feed, vows to keep
Caligari Cabinet towers glower over me
As I stumble my way home the sky lay flowers over me
This ol' thing - bitch
Easy takers gettin' fleeced
For the pennies in their pocket, their potato pepper peas
This I know I won't ever be the flavor of the week
I'm better off bein' a paver of the street
For no one hears a thing
So we bite our tongues until they bleed
Silently my concave form
Spreads across concrete floors
And sighs with no relief
Credits
Writer(s): Andrea Irene John
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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