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lirik lagu pickle – biteisme

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(stage 2 * anger)

pickle in a jar, i’ve been stuck in lamenting
throughout all of this time, the issue was fermenting
flip the storybook to some brand new pages
the real dill’s been jarred up for ages
for the first time in like thirteen years
i moved out of the denial to the anger it seems
ever since my teens i’ve been so f*cking wrecked
but not more than the kitchen when i add another pickle to the net

this song goes to uncle jack
half my lifе, i’ve been living with this (censored) in a shack
f*cking hatе you and your habits and your makeup and your vision
also every part about you that pushes you to decisions
saw the look in your eyes, when blood was starting to trickle
you kept beating me up, as if it barely f*cking tickles
i could feel my ribs shattering and my heart breaking as well
as i was pleading for some mercy, both of our eyes would start to swell

you a six foot man beating a baby half his size
f*cking soulless piece of sh*t think i don’t see through your disguise
you’re a broken mess of what was once human in you before
abusing children and projecting ’till you can’t hit me no more
you don’t feel f*cking nothing, barely carry emotions
you’re a husk of a human, tryna cope with the ocean
fishing trips every year, like they will fix what you are
come back the same way you left, as if i’m going too far
as if me staining your couch means that i’d rather have you k!lled
but at this point i would, in fact i’d be so f*cking thrilled
if you started to choke, i would leave you to die
and i’ve been wishing for this moment ever since i first cried
ever since you first caught me running away
and had me put up for your friends and the family on display
in every tale that you tell them, i’m the one who’s so cold
as if the cheesecake in this story ever was a 12 year old

and not the uncle who is 30 years of age in his tiny mental cage
his inflated alter*egos and his never*ending rage
in these same conversations, the truth goes unspoken
all the sudden i’m the only present for your friends to open
the future looks the same, full of misery and agony
the past remains sealed except for peeking in antagony
you think that discipline’s the only strategy
but all you did is make me despise and wish you never were a part of me

you never tried hard enough to be my father figure
only f*cked my momma twice that’s the only thing familiar
gave her stds who would ever have imagined
that the person who could k!ll her couldn’t k!ll me in that cabin
only love you ever showed was to a girl you tried to marry
when she left you for your illnesses it’s me who had to carry
all the weight of your troubles as you would lay another hit
because a counselor was out of the picture to try and get
i f*cking hate you hope it hurt the day that she walked away
and if i could then i’d inflict the same pain on you today
you narcissistic f*cking (censored), egotistical scum
worth for nothing failure, i wish you never met my mum
i don’t take back a single thing that i said you make me sick
and when you slowly wither no one will be there to suck your d*ck
if you ever took the pain that you inflicted on my skin
i bet you’d f*cking k!ll yourself and go to h*ll for all yo sins

man just do it already, would you look at me now
what a pickle you put me in, i bet you feel proud
go ahead and bow down to the crowd, i know you wanna
you the kinda guy to scar me while you smoking marijuana
listening to madonna and boasting how loud i screamed
then you spit into my face and know you’ll never be redeemed
something in you finds pleasure in abuse
but you’ll pay for it eventually, don’t you act amused
i know you jack

for the first time in like thirteen years
i moved out of the denial to the anger it seems
ever since my teens he’s been beating me senseless
leaving me breathless, grabbing me by the necklace
the very same one mama gave me that day
when i visited her one last time and got my way
sn*tched back to carolina, left her as a cripple
it’s jarring to accept that i’ll never escape this pickle
i’ve been stuck here for like almost 30 hours
it’s nearing towards 8, and the salad tasting sour
didn’t even clear the mess i made last night
if i can’t fix my sh*t, maybe uncle jack was right

(stage 3 * bargaining)

f*ck that sh*t what’s wrong with me? my life’s a f*cking oddity
the ghosts of carolina only doubling in quantity
i’m circling it back still debating the ambition
i got fourteen different tasks and it don’t better my condition
uncle jack was right, man, maybe i was wrong
cause the more i try the add the more i’m f*cking up this song
maybe i don’t gotta do it and expect them all to prey
what if the salad is the reason that my friends won’t try to stay

what if i just shouldn’t try, what if i deserve the beating
what if leftovers and spam the only thing i should be eating
what if, what if i never tried to run away forever
and what if when i did i would’ve played it off more clever
could’ve hid inside the bathrooms for a minute or two
instead of sacrificing moments just to see her with no clue
that he was also on his way, what if i fought back
cause i’d rather be a juvenile than be with uncle jack

i would throw away the salad if she comes back tomorrow
i would throw away my friends if god just takes away the sorrow
i would do so many things if he would stop for just a week
you don’t know how much i’d give just for him to let me speak
and you don’t know how much i’d give, for a year’s worth of silence
and i’d sell my soul for jack to have a little mental guidance

(he doesn’t know how much he breaks my heart in two, it’s true)

it breaks me so much
it breaks me so f*cking much
to know that now my momma dead there’s nowhere else for me to hide
i can’t even call the cops they’ll find me wounded up and tied
my friends don’t even know, not even michael knows what happens in this place
i’m so scared to tell them too they’ll all laugh at me with disgrace
they all think i treat them bad because i couldn’t care more
yet i could never tell the truth to them i swore to him

i swore to never tell a single soul, all the things that he does
nothing ’bout the beatings, nothing ’bout the drugs
and i’m so f*cking scared
to either mess the salad up or hope he ever cared
why the f*ck now? why uncover this today
i don’t want to be afraid, no i don’t even wanna stay
but there’s nowhere else to go, nowhere for me to run
if i don’t figure this sh*t out now my life is f*cking done

5 repressed years, holding on to this mf
and i don’t really care if i’ve been sounding like nf
i’m not the kinda guy to undervalue this type of torment
it’s more sour than this pickle that i’m adding at the moment
man f*ck this salad too, f*ck tryna confront
don’t give a sh*t if i’m in too deep just gonn’ keep taking them shrooms
but still i’m kinda right from the beginning of denial
if i never act on it i’ll never get to see his trial

f*ck i’m gonna do though?
i can let go of this blunt now, i’m taking it too slow
i’m through though with the energy i just need a solution
i’ll do anything just to secure a me good conclusion
maybe they don’t gotta take him in, what if i can fix him?
and leave others out this pickle on my own like team nissim
but oh sh*t i’ve been feel* oh f*ck it’s kicking
oh f*ck man* i knew i was tripping…

(here comes the past)

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