lirik lagu bleeding hearts – deadpan
[verse 1: snick foley]
all this cap you let pollute my mind, juliet masqueraded
the silence that i hear from the heavens exasperate it
been fascinated, worthy of happiness? that’s debated
i’m sick of this sh*t, at the end of my wits, getting ready to dip, and it feel like i been vaccinated
a shot to the arm, back to reality, thanks, ‘cause i needed that
should’ve never hit send, should’ve never been friends, all i know is i ain’t strong enough to read it back
i peer in the mirror, look upon a stranger, change thе way that it proves true
i scream, that i hatе you, and the reflection screams back, “know that it’s mutual”
hmm…fair enough; loneliness don’t spare the tough
act like i don’t care then bluff; no longer would i dare to trust
a single soul the thought is pure, intentions ain’t
i pray for help, but god yells down, “yo you not a saint”
the greatest liars been perpetually portrayed as pious
think i’m absolved, it’s so ironic i can’t see the bias
a hypocrite, won’t slit his wrist, just stuck with bl**dy fists
from punching on the pavement, while lamenting that it came to this
[verse 2: deadpan]
kneel at the altar, screaming, “jesus, eden’s garden’s reaping weaker harvests each and all the weeks the priests are preaching calmness”
bleeding heart is deemed an awkward greeting, cheaper talking’s causing people’s jaws to creak and t**ter off to feeble waltzes
let’s call it even; you scrawled the script i starred as lead in
it’s all in reason to long for peace when loss is recent
to each their own interests: individuals off the deep end
ploughed the shrouded breeding grounds souring our false allegiance
give me something please, the returns are diminishing
the fertile future we earned turned into an urn full of cinnamon
could taste the murder in that dish when your servant is bringing it
sh*t’s so finished that even the furniture’s splintering, bickering
pick an issue and stick with it ‘til giving up on it is worse than leaving
militant adherence to a strip of dirt with accursed lesions
i had it all mapped out, it was supposed to be a perfect sequence
now i’m dreaming for a piece of death the world is steeped in
[post*verse: deadpan]
now i’m dreaming for a piece of death the world is steeped in
‘cause it was supposed to be a perfect sequence
[pre*verse: snick foley]
so much of the dreams depart
wonder did they even start
all these shattered dreams and all that’s left is just a bleeding heart (a bleeding heart)
a twisted knife inside a bleeding heart
go twist the knife inside the bleeding heart
[verse 3: deadpan]
central city burning frigid, willie sherman*ing it
civic questions left a fetishistic pit to purge and pillage
precious personage; treasured purses in need of protection
first plea*riddled geneva convention; skipped the scribbled words, dismissive
dropping bombs in the citizens’ bank: ryan howard in ‘06
stacked vitals in spider tack; vie for the power in those grips
stick in the shank close to the ribs; bone*shivering flank to the shiv
time*choking grin; violence since cowardice won’t win
pushing luck wasn’t good enough, the shoves came to this
took a huff of regurgitated myths that tasted flavorless
shouldn’t have run, huh? the rage builds quicker when you’re evading it
look at the plundered remains of this foundation and what we made of it
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