Viva la Rebellion
Tainted memories, faint and bitter sweet. Tossed to the wolves, lost with the sheep. Picking up the pieces but I got nothing left to own. Taped out long before I knew the life that leads to love.
If living were an art form, and love were the coveted prize; my canvas is a heaping pile of confettied hearts and lies.
What I gotta do to get this taste out my mouth
To get this bird out my brain
To get my head out this cloud
Just one sip and I’m off to the races
I’m not gonna slack
Got no time to be down
If it tastes good, looks good, feels good
I want it
Can’t get it outta my mind
I hit rock bottom
Then I got back up
I kept on walking
Still stuck in the muck
I kept runnin
Kept grindin
Stayed foolin myself
Threw shade at my redemption
Kept diggin that hole
And now I know
There’s nowhere left for me to go but up
What happens when you shake a snow globe? A whirlwind disseminates around whatever masterpiece lies beneath. And as that masterpiece awaits patiently to be revealed, the shaker continues to shake and shake and shake, as though chaos is more amusing than art.
