Album: An Artistic Funeral

Crawlspace

Dysfunctional, uncomfortable, these thoughts ain’t wonderful
Not loveable, I feel the thunder pull
Me closer to the storm, worn from the fear
I’m tired of crying, tired of sportin’ the tears
Dried on my cheeks, I’m tryin’ to speak
Eternal problems like hell’s cookin’ a side of beef
Stress running through my head, I can’t get rid of it
Like hammers pounding on my cranium, my heads splittin’ kid
Rejection, my world crumbles by depression
Stressin’ taxes, trapped in, dreams that I’m in question
That I’ll ever achieve, they tend to fade out
I feel like I got more beef then a steakhouse
I’m trying to break out, this shell of constant fury
Doctors and pills just can’t seem to cure me
It fuels me how; I can’t even make it past the dust
And how my life can’t even paint the canvas with a brush…

[Chorus]
My life is like a crawlspace…
Seems easy at first, but it’s hard to get through, but not always
Sometimes transforms to a hallway
That you can get through, but still fall way
Down into depression, like the abyss in the sea
My heart is like a crawlspace, storing pain in me


Revelations, rotate through my cold brain
I’ve written letters to god, and left no name
I’m too afraid, to be known by my errors
My thoughts have been destroyed and dismembered
Remembered, how the shards of my past
Don’t seem to hurt my walls, but target my glass
Only leading to destruction, I’m fuckin’ out of it
It’s like kats is fake, they all counterfeit
I’m bound to flip, and crack like cocaine
My fear rests on a canopy, so I don’t show pain
Like band aids, covering scars and cuts
Feeling clogged in the mind when it’s hard to bust
Rhymes and lines designed to climb the beat’s spine
You see my, head down, feeling dead now
About to break like a wishbone, sit home and cry
Depressed cause I feel alone inside…

[Chorus]

It’s kinda funny how our lives are on stage
It’s kinda funny how I can go from insane, to gone sane
My anger rests in ponds, lakes and when the bomb breaks
I can’t even stay inside my mond (mind) state
My life feelin’ shitty like diapers, in this city of vipers
And snakes that wait to stick me with cider
Of poison, etched into the birth, of my thoughts
Peace to my deceased peeps, in the earth under moss
You’re not lost… or forgotten
But in reality, I’m the one who’s turned rotten
Locked in, a sanitarium within my own mind
Writing poems and lyrics, like a gold mine
Hold mine, down, like gravity, tragedy feelin’, endless
Heartbroken, un-mended, descendin’
To my lows, behold the question…
It’s a cold world, and I’m out in it
Or in my house sittin’, with my mouth spittin’ lyrics
I got criticism from my boys Kyle and Nick
And improved how I wrote, with my style from Rick
As the stress inside me, piled real quick
I started to realize, yet deny the sick
Thoughts I had, I needed a helpin’ hand
Needed to tell things id never tell a man