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lirik lagu eight weeks – linqua franqa

[intro]
my pulse is racin’, the pace is crazy
i’m so sure my heart’ll blow, one of the harder bros is like
“what’chu actin’ so startled fo’? don’t you wanna hit off the bolt?”
when i said, “i smoked a lot of pot for sure
but be me and “startled” is par for course”
since early girlhood i’ve been burning purple herbal spliffs
slurpin’ ’em up like kirby ’til i’m whirlin’ with the dervishes
eatin’ [?] tryin’ to forget my murderous nervousness
and determine if weed makes it better or actually worsens it

[chorus]
you see me in the street, i fairly reek of appeal
but only supеrficially, ’cause underneath it is sеaled
givin’ people peeks helps to cheapen the thrill
so it’s linqua franqa, redefinin’, keepin’ it

you see me in the street, i fairly reek of appeal
but only superficially, ’cause underneath it is sealed
givin’ people peeks helps to cheapen the thrill
so it’s lingua franqa, redefinin’, keepin’ it

[verse]
in november, i never thought the sun would shine again
but now i’m on the other side of it
and like the scents of cyanide and p*ss
i’m a little bitter ’bout summertime
and how it left me high and dry
like a skittish lamb in the lion’s den
now i don’t trust these summer days
’cause where the f*ck were they
when i took knife to skin and wanted my entire life to end?
summer abandoned me and now it’s handin’ me
a spanish beach and a can to drink of the heineken
like, “sorry about your suicidal kick
here’s a plastic pool, won’t you dive in it?
here’s some acid too: delightfully dionysian”
but i find myself desensitized to how absurdly nice it is
to step outside my crib and smell the lilacs and the hyacinths

but then again, if everything in your environment
is conspiring to uplift you and cannot
then maybe there’s something on the inside that’s the problem
but how was i supposed to know?

two heteros wed together, they’re wettin’ genitals
central towards the pleasure, parenthood is parenthetical
’til your periods missin’ and it’s being missing gets conspicuous
you’re p*ssin’ on a stick and sh*t, sh*t, sh*t
get what the issue is? a pinch of fetal tissue
it’s a daughter, it’s a parasite
it’s an honor, it’s gotten you terrified
it’s a daughter but she’s gotta go, though could you spare a life?
could you prepare her right if you tried? are you the parent type?
prepared to fight for the right of choice
and yet embarrassed by that choice
if it’s a parasite, why ya eyes all moist?
because it’s difficult to call the child a choice
when a tiny voice inside you is cryin’ out
that it’s your pride and joy
’cause n0body tells you: you conceive it, you can grieve it
’cause all we see’s the stigmatization of a procedure
feedin’ off misinformation, and tradin’ conversation for secrets (tradin’ conversation for secrets)
like my own mother, who had an abortion at my age and didn’t say sh*t either (tradin’ conversation for secrets, tradin’ conversation for secrets, say sh*t either)
so how was i supposed to know?

[chorus]
you see me in the street, i fairly reek of appeal
but only superficially, ’cause underneath it is sealed
givin’ people peeks helps to cheapen the thrill
so it’s linqua franqa, redefinin’, keepin’ it

you see me in the street, i fairly reek of appeal
but only superficially, ’cause underneath it is sealed
givin’ people peeks helps to cheapen the thrill
so it’s linqua franqa, redefinin’, keepin’ it

- linqua franqa

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