Tendency to Vent
• Written by ribs
ribs's Notes
@ 0:10
Tendency's to vent, Hennessy's the scent/
that I breathe when I seethe all up under my breath
There's too many weights that my mind creates
My skin turns pale like an IPA
beats that i'll never use, talent that i'll never prove/
standing on this bridge is honestly a better view
jump off maybe, gun shot maybe
breaking down inside like a junk shop made me
who am i tomorrow, who am i today
gather all my problems bring 'em to the light of day
i hate that i can never hate all my sin enough
even though i hate and sin too much
crusin low-eyed like, songs that i like
loud enough to make me forget about my life
I'm pissed if you can't tell, really not handled well
Heaven in my eyes but still a hand in Hell
I thought I knew the feeling, thought I had the Calm
Thought I held hands with holes in the palms
I knew I was wrong when I wrote this song
Crying out like David when he wrote the Psalms
If I were God to ribs, and knew what ribs did/
then I wouldn't let ribs into where I lived
I'd kick him out cast him into eternal blackness
better yet I'd speak of him in the past tense
But wouldn't that be cruel? Creating such a fool?
Create a broken man with no fix or tools?
God don't forget me, it feels like He left me
It feels like He's carrying everyone except me
I thought God said that He made debts forgiven
Why does it feel like my soul needs an exorcism?
Feedback & Comments
About the Artist
ribs
Member since February 26 2015