Every time I try to sleep I think about the shit I've seen
Adult ass men feeling up on young teens
Flowers that can bloom on the moon or undersea
Or the all-seeing leaves of the universal tree
Overflowing feats in floating castles of my dreams
Or pretty little nymphs with the lips like whipped cream
Sentimental values will only end in screams
You have to shed your skin and only then can the light show through the seams
I've seen a lot of things
But I don't know a lot
I can't remember my dreams
I don't know why not
I can't remember numbers from my combination lock
I can't remember constellations, or the names of rocks
My jaded nature is the bane of my existance
But I couldn't exist in this world without indifference
It doesn't matter if life is a simulation
'Cause even if it is then it's still the same situation
Still the same limitations in my daily life
Still nothing to do but just drive around and cyphe
And bump beats and rap and have tedious conversations about the state of human rights
What could have been never ever would have been
Cause everything that's happened has happened, and the earth still spins
I think my life's a movie
The Truman Show specifically
I'm sick cause I'm addicted to epiphanies
Queen of the underground, I feel like Persephone
I supply the sound but I won't make them pay a debt to me
It's fine for me 'cause there are other fish up in the sea
The problem for them is that when it comes to beats, there's just not really another me
So eventually they rediscover me
And try to smother me and butter me up
Like I'd been replaced with another me who gives a fuck or wants their company
Why would I want it if I can't be in it comfortably
Why would I want your presence if you're not a bud to me
Why would I want a bud if they're not in love with me
How can you love me if you barely even fuck with me

I don't want frauds or actors, or gods or masters
Or friends I take out and they just stick to the wall like plaster
Maaan, I'd rather have a natural disaster
I'd rather be alone today and every day after
But loneliness is sticky and it seems to gunk me up
It gums my gears up, it makes my brain get stuck in ruts
It deconstructs my sentences and fucks me up
It makes my knuckles white like I forgot to buckle up

I need a heavy sweater for this winter weather
All my dreams and memories just seem to bleed together
Feels like I'm falling off like a dead bird feather
But it's whatever, I guess I'll probly get better