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lyrics

[CHORUS]
Concerningly uncertain,
Feeding the world serpent
It's not for you whom the world turns for

[VERSE 1]
You can't wash your hands of this.
Atlas couldn't handle the weight of my secrets
Never spoken, but you don't know I've told you so many times before
Through flinching, the wincing at nothing
Overprotective instincts
A shadow cannot exist in the dark, and so I dwell in it
A scream for help can't be heard during war, so why yell for it?

[CHORUS]

[VERSE 2]
Run it.

At a food truck, chatting with Zarathustra with his sick sense of humor
He said, "if God is dead, then we've all been crashing his funeral.
Every day, we've been robbing his grave,
I guess his body fertilized the hyacinths."
If you ask them, all children born in the hood are sacrificial lambs so peace would still be sacrilege
You can't wash your hands of this
There are no answers
Here, theft is a crime of passion
We move work on the sabbath here, nigga.

[CHORUS]

[VERSE 3]
I had a stuffed tiger I told all my secrets
I knew it couldn't hear me, so when I talked, I could mean it
It's ironic how many ways we related
You see, it couldn't tell me no, either
They blamed themselves for the suicide, I told them, "don't beat yourself up, it was a team effort."
Cries for help drowned out by team Edward, or something just as inconsequential
the streets thirst for blood ain't quenchable
in the eyes of the law, all negroes are identical
The ego is untenable
So when I asked for help, all my problems were unamendable
Brushed off like an ad, or a gnat
I'm just a kid, all that matters is i don't press your buttons
So I'm playing niggas like a gba
You couldn't see them old screens in the dark
And you couldn't see me
So don't need nobody's approval for me to feel stable
No link cables

[CHORUS]

credits

from let's play pretend!, released March 20, 2023

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Decuma Michigan

The man of no identity.

Author, musician, and rogue existentialist born in Detroit.

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