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lirik lagu the art of facing – chun

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[intro]
“clean up on aise 7, clean up on aisle 7”

[verse]
another typical wednesday afternoon
clock in at 3:30
not a minute late, not a minute soon
first thing i do is cruise around the grocery store and assess the shelves
*n*lyzing if the wellness products look well
as of now, they could use a bit of facing
that term refers to the look of the product placement
and organization, a factor that affects our sales
on a scale of one to 5, the store could use a level 4 facelift
but to be honest, right now i’m feeling complacent
i stare at the crooked pasta boxes, knocked*over kombucha bottles
scattered veggies and fruit, a lot of shelves looking hollow
cause they ain’t been stocked in a min’
i pause, take a deep breath
got a five*hour shift ahead of me
and so it begins
i start rearranging the bottles, slide the first two to the front
that’s when i realize all the other bottles behind em’ messed up
they’re not in a straight line, they crooked
some facing the wrong direction
the facing is looking reckless
but i accept it
i make excuses
it doesn’t look half bad, i’m used to seeing worse*looking shelves in other markets
the bottles look ok, this facing will do just fine
as i’m thinking i hear the bell ringing
few times
i leave what i’m doing and walk to the check stand
put on my best happy face, “h*llo m’aam, how you doing today?”
she replies “hi, everything’s ok”
and lights up a pleasant smile, she’s got a child, he’s hugging her hips
he let’s go, runs up and down the aisle, laughing
makes me miss the innocence of being a kid
passive, minding my own business
absent from the pressures that come with being 21
i finished bagging her groceries “alright, who’s next up?”
a middle*aged man plops a frozen pizza box
and a 6*pack on the counter
he clearly knows how the encounter
will go, he tells me “no, i’m not a member
i’m paying with credit, and i don’t need a receipt
he seems a bit grumpy, bothered, weary, scruffy
definitely not the type to get teary*eyed
at least not in public
he completes the transaction
but his countenance makes
me ask him “is everything alright”?
he says “yeah, i’m fine”
but i can tell that he’s lying
trying to keep something inside him
“sir, are you really good?”
he remains defiant
“yeah, i’m ok, just leave me alone”
i reply “ok, goodbye” and he’s gone
i leave the check stand
can’t help but ponder what problems the poor man might be facing
and speaking of facing
i decide i’ll finally face the drink section
but when i arrive i see the bottles are in worse condition
then i’d ieft them
cause more bottles knocked over
the stock lookin’ lower
different brands and colors
mixed with others
i try to keep my composure
take another deep breath
(breath)
“let’s get this over with”
i palm a sparkling water
don’t got a glove
so the chilly glass gives me goosebumps
slide one to the front
then another
and another
and another one
agh, the freezing glass got my fingers numb
“oh, somebody rung the bell”
i run to the check stand and help the customers
every time i ask them how they’re doing
they tell me “i’m doing good”
“i’m doing great”
“i’m doing fine”
“i’m doing amazing”
but i wonder how many of them going crazy inside?
how many of them shoving
stress, anxiety, depression
debt, overdue rent payments
death of loved ones
illnesses, addictions
tragedy, traumas
and transgressions under the rug?
do they shrug em’ off?
doesn’t matter where they come from
regardless of skin color, age, or gender
whether poor, rich, middle class or anywhere else in between the spectrum
i know everybody facing something
although sometimes it feels like i’m facing nothing
at least nothing serious
“wow, you’re lucky”
as i’m contemplating these concepts
i see a familiar face
it’s the angry man from earlier
his expression looks honest
he walks up to me and says
“hey, i’m sorry for telling you to leave me alone”
“i don’t want to be mean to you bro”
i can see him becoming vulnerable
it’s just, you know, um, i lost my only son a week ago
this weekend’s his funeral
i know this might be too personal
but i want you to understand where i’m coming from
please pray for my soul?
then he departed
the man’s comments left me speechless
as i headed back to the drink section
i began thinking
“that tragedy might haunt his regular life forever”
that’s when i realize the definition of an average life
differs depending on perspective
it varies from situation to situation
one person’s daily life might be heaven on earth
and the next person’s life might be hades
it’s amazing
that every single person i’ve ever seen in my life
has a story
and they playin’ the main lead
that makes me have more empathy
for those who might be seen
as nothing more than npcs
they got a history
present, and eternal destiny
like me
it’s crazy how we all so similar
yet so distinctly unique
man, i try to keep facing the shelves
but now they look abysmal
but it’s not the customers’ fault
i did it myself
as i’m staring at the bottles it hits me
i do have issues
and the problem is, i don’t face em well
i face my problems like i face the products
i fix up the ones at the front to hide
the real mess behind em’
cause the truth is i am facing
problems, i just do it in silence
cause i’m afraid of what some will think of me
if they caught wind of the things i’m hidin’
inside my mind and, inside my heart it’s
filled with darkness, the hardness of heart is
a condition i was born with
sin, been there since day one when i came out the womb
even though it ain’t visible it’s a deadly wound if left untreated
i learned in church that jesus is the treatment
but the way i treat him is treason
with my, l*st, pride, and greed
and my hate, selfishness, idolatry
these are sins i keep feedin’
if i don’t face em’ they’ll be the death of me
when i stand face to face before god
on the judgment seat
in my lifetime, will i fully surrender?
holding on to habits
cause i’m scared of change
it will never be the same
if i give up my ways
my choice will impact my future forever
i know the right choice to make
but that walk of life ain’t an easy highway
i head to the restroom
stand in front of the mirror and stare at my face
that’s a sight i hate to see some days
i have to face the fact that i’m not that attractive
and what’s inside my heart is less than average
i am a broken man in need of grace
doin’ dirt, maybe cause i was made from it
demons and skeletons i ain’t facing em’
in fact, i’m escaping em’
leaving them in the closet
because facin’ em is costly
so i’m asking myself
do i wanna change?
[outro]
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