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lirik lagu it’s too late – caucasian

[hook x2]
feels like a close, it’s coming to
f-ck am i gonna do?
it’s too late to start over
this is the only thing i, thing i know

[verse 1]
was nothing more than a dumb child obsessed with
roaming the streets with the young wild and reckless
dared anyone to come around and test his
authority, he’s gathering names to compound a checklist
was taught the game and that challenging new contestants
is a way to reach all new levels in his profession
feels as though he can’t be held accountable for past transgressions
the lasting effects of hard learned lessons lessons with adolescence
no one truly reflects un-
til their helpless becoming old and decrepit
or have welts left where the belt hit
discipline is surely lacking
in the league of his quarry’s faction
he could attack them do drastic damage before they even are sure what’s happening
but can also -ssure that method would yield no satisfaction
there’s been traction between the factions for 7 p-ssing moons
if he had it his way everyone that’s clashing will be p-ssing soon
has a hunger for war & destruction and he feeds as the action blooms
grits his t–th, grabs a spoon hoists his knife
as his p-ssion looms the fabric of reality as he imagined doing
years ago but happening sooner than he’d considered
the blood spill steadily has built up
and at this point is about as lengthy as that egypt river

[hook x2]
feels like a close, it’s coming to
f-ck am i gonna do?
it’s too late to start over
this is the only thing i, thing i know

[verse 2]
so i lay here in the silence
in a state of meditation where sp-ce is timeless
feel the vibrance
the excitement
as i lay here in a bed of violets
thoughts stemming from the violence
how do i fight this? i could ride a bike and petal to higher climates or
i could run away
run away
yeah i could run away
but i’d run for nothing cause i have no dreams to chase
only beasts to face
at least i’m graced with the things i can create
with a pen or pencil and a heart that’s aches
i watch the stars fade and i think that’s there’s a purpose
so i dip my pen in blood to write a verse to find out if it’s worth it
i’m cursed with being nervous
an anxious worthless person, at least..
that’s what i’ve heard and concurred from years of hurt
but i won’t sit and listen i could script my visions maybe get people to listen as my lines scintillate and glisten when they’ve found appreciation
they’ve been called profound, astounding, inspiring
could be the cause of innovation
my mind is full of ideas so how could i stay in a mind that’s never vacant let alone vacation so i’m trapped
but when the day ends i lay in excitement like i listen to sirens
but that excitement happens when i’m sitting in silence

[hook x 3]

- caucasian

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