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