BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
MGD1
- Hear I am without a sick rhyme to my name,
- game over before I even turned to the game,
- a flow as ordinary as my punches mundane,
- no new kicks or dope hoodie to hide in my shame,
- boarded the late train, hair still the same,
- as three years ago when I started chasing the flame,
- and I still haven't caught it, despite all the advances,
- seems I'd rather pace it then deal with the pain,
- no failed romances, no second glances,
- nothing won or lost despite numerous chances,
- I ask you what's so good about being a King,
- answering questions about every little thing,
- entertained by the jesters as they juggle and sing,
- rather sit on the side than pull every string,
- content to be a spectator than stand in the ring,
- feigning my interest in the lies that they bring,
- it's too much work to put up with so much fake,
- rather to just give than wait for all the take,
- but this is just the calm before that break,
- try to stand firm while the earth crumbles and shakes,
- try to come to terms with the fact I'll never learn,
- my Sleeping Beauty will probably never wake,
- couldn't write lyrics close to Em or Aesop,
- not even experienced enough to name drop,
- take out pad and paper, time to make this shit pop,
- having even finished a bar before I say "stop",
- that's just the way, as April turns to May,
- wave at my opportunities while they're passing away,
- a casket is made, never was very bright,
- so please just bury it in the shade,
- let me hide from the light,
- under a tree, for everyone to see,
- "here lies potential, who was never good to me",
- and on the stone write the epitaph in pen,
- the same pen that failed me, again and again,
- not good enough for Heaven, spare me "Amen",
- But tried to be fair, even at the end,
- Hell, I couldn't even properly Sin,
- So I'll sit here in purgatory, waiting for my morning glory,
- reborn again so I can try to finish this tragic story,
- can someone please play me an intro so I can believe,
- then quickly an outro so I can just pack up and leave,
- Fifteen minutes is a little too long for me to stay,
- give me a minute and I'll fuck up in every way,
- a cautionary tale of fail and what not to say,
- a dimming example of a star that never shot your way,
- but I'm still here, and I'll try pick up every part,
- that they tore to pieces right from the start,
- leaving me with no choice but to agree,
- doubt in my veins chased with insecurity,
- but you see I've found the key, the doorway to home,
- and I'll toss this key when I enter alone,
- I don't need to see their faces when I've finally blown,
- either as big as a Rockstar, or as blood hits the stone,
- either way, I knew I had given it my all,
- sometimes you wait and you'll never get that call,
- but the man on the edge who's willing to fall,
- the one who threw the dice, he's easier to recall,
- and standing there idle, only your reflection your rival,
- is while you and my waves will never be tidal,
- it's hard to make a splash when you never move around,
- and it's impossible to be lost when you never were found,
- so find the ambition, create your own mission,
- follow the Discussion and feign intuition,
- you use anything at your disposal to mend your condition,
- and escape the bars, or write your own bars in this prison,
- I for one find
- never a rhyme
- that isn't without a story behind,
- so this is the time, memento mori,
- escape from the dark,
- find morning glory
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