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hypnaddict - the mesmerizing curse of curiosity [demo 4½] lyrics

[intro:]

we good
we’re good
we gotta keep it pushin

[verse: hypnaddict]
dear son

among these fields of fallen ice

tons of spiders yield haunted binds through lures made of a sole leaves glide; and although from skewers my toll bleeds dry, all i could notice is that and this as a letter of truth but yet of words that were never mine

“i’m trying to explain but i’m loosing control
lines that i waste, i’ll reap what i sow
a feeling i can’t tame, have to speak of what was shown”

the finest of strings out on a whim but why?

the lightest of pleads found flight in a wind all thе while through looming waves of light with some intеrtwining smoke i (uh..) blew, we can follow a resonance blooming on this sorrow+bluing brim of silence, either acting as a guide or only finding a new rhythms flight;

maybe proof leading through truths bleeding out, patterns were created just to be recognized and i wouldn’t doubt if it’s in reason we choose to understand the sound to be covered in some audible form of what would be soot, like it’s caused by my plea for a reason why being heard by something sly, if we assume

if ever so, then before this hymn begins echoing some enchantment to leave us alone, lost in the shadows and dim, a selfish creature wanted the slightest reminder of hope for their life; (ha) something that should have had already existed within
after seeing such a sight, i wondered if that same breeze smeared the glow and the shine of any meaning with its glide

and so it was through flooding layers of fog i rose which i thought would move the air that chose to carry the spiders silk but it seemed to have one of those abilities to want and it wanted to thrive but yet to my surprise, (ha) that meant for it to stand still

almost like desiring my attention to the point that ‘time’ became an option and a target to steal

i looked up, greeted by a blinding moment of solace and relief. a comfort i couldn’t accept, it felt as if it weren’t for me, even though this were to be something i need

not undeserved or loss, solely meaning the connection between felt stolen or a fraud feeling got freed along to somewhere, where again i’ll never be, if within our realms of ‘anywhere’ maybe near this pond by some path toward which calls from my dreams. nowhere important, but to be fair endless beauty is anywhere if you remember your privilege to see; god how much have i seen?

not enough

coming to, i began noticing an enclosing of trees left untrimmed, towering with might, following a feeling of a lifting weight, towards the slightest height required for the world i’ve known to become of what would be considered a world ‘once knew;’ a place only to then be found in the dream of a pipe. (pause. legalize the plant)

but never before like this have i thought

disorganized speech from over+organized lots

of memories i could ever only dream as a mesh until a feeling of loss encapsulates every piece that within myself exists with too much of cost. (ha) blend in the morning and either feeling of grief or panic kicks back like a shot

there’s not a single thing but totality and all

while nothing lasts, (ha) this is all we got;

“but never before like this have i thought.”
almost clever, for where there’s silence, i hold a favorite spot; if ever this were a world where spiders held darker thoughts, then i can see the possibility of this being a trap that which towards i waltz

all of a cycle starting with the sight or maybe from these psycho+reapers using different types of needles for what needs to be sewn must be reaped with their own suing scythes or even versions of sickles meant to slice the binds of any other ideation through a differing concept of lines, endless possibilities, all equal in the chance of knowing what is ‘right.’

immediately after such an intense wonder had hit me, i wouldn’t help myself from thinking against that very bias and i could recognize that the thought (ha) wasn’t fully ‘mine’ or (ha) if it ever was. check it:

if only the winds blew just ‘right’, maybe these lures could lace into the same fabrics that were left binding a vision to my mind, imagine it, all by flailing in a failing sky; horrors by elegant design dancing with a spin through the glim of its own radiance of white

i spent my vision til’ a sly sense of withering fell with a slide upon my wilted crimson eyes;

i can only describe it as dependence on their light, created by spontaneous cognizance from their shine:

“is it on account of a theft through this emitting bait, that if ever within sight of soul, the bordering time is taken away or just another accident in which coincides with the change?

either way, time is ticking away and this is what i think to know and yet i wonder that with the question, if what i ponder depicts what i hope.”

for it was only as they had flown, the burden of a certain scattered memory steals the battered attention i thought was mine, or at least to+where it may be given was for me to decide. yet, carelessly in their right, caressing the same winds carrying these interweaving’s of my mind, tangled patterns of the bitter teeming rivers we dream and never confide; flowing in a form of ice, floating gently from our skies with currents through the last of the winds, i had become entangled with the efforts of ignorance trying to cast uncertainty aside

i couldn’t believe from what could be seen, it’s all for and ever to be living within traps that can blend with light and why, i wondered, do they give up their disguise?

repulsive to me, so one must think in regard to these creatures or things, what am i? a fair thought for they surround where i now survive

maybe in some aspect or belief, i believe i’m being rational within reasonable mind but this does not create what i think as right; could this be the same as what is seen from everything in which is chaos to the fly? would it not be with faith we believe the truest of infinite bears within the possibility of a mind? then how must anything ever be and in this thought, it came to me as the strangest welcoming to the presence of time

you see, upon my notice of their leaf, the world had paused in a moment of peace and i think i can see a way to make this a feeling to keep;
with luck, (ha) reason was created for me to write

imagine this shield of reality in which we hide, shattering for just an instance, when you see a leaf mid+fall and refusing to finish it’s dive

hidden is a sight meant to distort our time in the midst of a sky that carpets our land in white

i believe. at least, i mean i think, for the lone intent i can know will ever only be my own so, oh, i can’t believe i forgot to say h+llo

in an effort to control the doubt of my mind

here’s a letter to patrol the passage of time

from a sender i hope you know, bless me in disguise of a chance for delight; (a chance for the light, yeah)

feels like that moments past and yet i’m still waiting for the time. without another to waste

these eternal drifts just may permit for this bliss to survive carrying me with from the mist made of clarity in a twist, joining together, a summit of ice and myself looking up to find i still have yet to reach the beauty of the sky

let no other put asunder from this aspect of life

with this instance written, a world’s a witness to everlasting strides given by irrational eyes

for the most meaning i could ever find, is if within the grips of father time, a list of recipients for this resides with your name delicately signed

i saw a chance and chose to let it grow;

as time persists, a simple wonder will rationalize and ponder on if a stronger man would have let it go?

all i know is as long as the possibility exists, then it’s with this breath in which i give this debt upon to you, and welcome you to the human condition by proxy
(ha)
how’s your life?

now you don’t have to respond, but understand i’d love to hear and have to try, especially to get you as far out from where you are, to by my side

for the times where you’re at is dark and i’d rather you have a better sight. let it be a fair view, a genuine opportunity, nothing slight. i want you to have the best but for now the decision isn’t really mine. i just wanted to clarify that first i must better mine for you to have a better sight

now son, in this thought that wages on, hallowed tolls were taken on me but as with any price that’s paid, there’s a certain distance you can follow the money. what i mean to say is if you find a similar price, or live a familiar life, all it’s ever about is the meaning you find. and because of that

this menial sight, there sparked a lone mischievous light from the idea of you seeing this letter i write

a thought toying with me, you see, i have been given a story. simply a tale of a dream from a wandering man and not to be taken as some warning

its with the highest of hopes these words lay in your hands and you continue to indulge me

i recognized the lure on a string, now something manipulates how i think, my senses had begun morphing

(so x3) whether surely or not, if this enticement had been a conjuring’s taunt from the attempts of spiders through crystal strokes of broad nor be caught bearing the foulest strength of the falsest of glories through intentions so holy that one would not be able to see or be taught of coverings of carrion rot or exist as an epiphany of my own warming greed, i cannot find the words to argue against the worth of exploring and so ever forth i have sought

which has brought me exactly here, to write these words for you
(ha)
and now i cannot fight the urge tell you of the mesmerizing curse of curiosity:

once upon a time among the brightest days

sometimes and somewhere, moments hide and find their shade. foolish stunts, flaunting such, there’s much more to memories than you think

along these lands, time cascades within a dimension you perceive. a sense you have, dulled and shamed, memory that’s privileged by belief;

there lived a man who dwelled away with history that fades, living to question the claims of what the people would speak from whomever believed they held a say, eventually running a world barren of words to share and of reasons to think
(ha)

with no more where’s to wander
with no more dares of wonder
with no more prayers to offer

he leaves even the devil to forget what to believe. and if he does not know what you seek

you found a way to trick a trickster and how to get him to meet; for he has nothing but himself to present, forcing his hand towards a single choice of two possibilities. a granted meeting or admitting defeat. our man saw a grand achievement coming to be, for up against a betting man he saw a reason for holding a belief;

the evil he perceived, always it will be guided towards the greater chance. or so, he believed;

but i’m getting ahead of myself, let me set it up. (ha)

with vacillating binges among a mind, curiosity lead a man to where the serpent lives

isolating himself with the hum from a hidden hissing tongue; pure honesty travels in a pair with the forfeit of a twist:

a hassle of ailing hinging upon times sole solemn omission, no one knows the cause of its existence and yet for all that is, we come away with eternities to bear a sworn witness

still, it was with a step taken forward to where he can no longer see his feet and within the subduing silence, he heard the grass underneath as something that slithered moved apart the blades and the leaves

still, (ha) without a shiver, this darkness sept into the core of his dreams and had even stolen any resemblance of himself from within his memory

walking into the casting shade to which this path commits and never has it strain nor seen but a single light within. darkening the last of the rays, a path unlit severed by some shade departed with a pair of pupils away from the reach of light again. was this just his sole perspective? he had reached this same question:

so then came a pause before another step forward, maybe captivated by this sibilance, as if his soul found innocence and in pure ignorance, bred a fear he was unfamiliar with

now standing still as his world had grown somber, there overwhelmed a false normalcy within as this oblivion was setting in. ever+coming starless nights settling upon absent horizons, who would imagine that the grip that the world held on their breath could find its beginning of growing remiss?; and just for this moment, rather than having had hoped, (ha) alone his wonder dimmed

you see, when moments went and hid away, within some shade, torment began existing in a form of intent that degrades his spirit of self

a torture of which had a source, one that he could never tell; laying within the interlacing’s of his wishes for interests and the entwined will to survive, causing constancy to grow brittle while it was still alive

for he was a man of the dark, one who resides outside the reach of the shine

little too hot and life seemed simpler in the night

ever so, restraint wilted pathetically in a hope, a search for desire alone had come from his lips with the words of those that glimmered in a mockery of gold; for as precious as an answer would appear, the greater a sin begins to grow;

the value that he sees, mirrors an answer he wants to hear rather any truth to behold

so as soundless as this sullen drift was living, his ringing ears stole the focus from his writhing attention, upon a way and around a deepening hole from falling with the belief that a slithering beast cared to listen his soul. uncertainty painted anything that could be seen so before he ever spoke, he stood awaiting aside some burning bridges and maybe a throne, lit only for light and oddly enough, all that could be noticed was the lack of what would’ve glistened or ever dared to shine; a focus only stolen for a moment though

our man, being of absence, could not recognize a difference between himself and the dark. why take another step forward if you can argue that you’re already there from the start? solutions for solutions to problems that have yet to embark. “patience is the game if at any moment you’re locked,” at one time he once had thought

and then from the silence came a deafening taunt. (ha)

huh, something from nothing and into nothing it sparks. there’s no physical form to a memory and yet we can find a heaviness that haunts

“at least i can feel it.”

“thankful i’m breathing”

“how is this a thought i’m having?”

“how am i still able and standing?”

welcome to his illusion of centrality

ruins will come from confusion of reality

this man we’ve been speaking of dastardly stands among every shadow that has fallen into our deepest of valleys, still alive and with his privilege of standing

d+mn him

gladly he sordidly searched for an escape
never having conformity to again embrace
i think i can finally explain this letter orderly, wait!

when i recognized the ‘lure on a string’, did something truly manipulate how i think, morphing senses to create this story for you to receive?

or son, while spiders really did weirdly weight their strings with leaves around my house, doors and trees, did their actions cause a strange sequence of things to occur indeed?

no, no, no. this was the mistake, believing or even just thinking of such a cycle of which started from the sight, was anything more than a psychosomatic delusion, a lie. from yourself to yourself, for a conclusion of the world of which i couldn’t fight

in the moment of what seemed to be my witness of something floating, without an instant awareness coasting in myself, an indebted interest began roaming, a practice of my sub+conscious, to think ahead of any possible plan, some call it: ‘hoping.’

then when his wonder dimmed, (hey) could coincidence be enough? without the change, nothing new can be said to have begun; not too different than perfection while being the furthest thing from, this is hardness of change that follows the acceptance of loss. unbound from fate, we’re not subject towards of what can become; i think i found a way to supply a change to your world, if you want

look back at my repulsion towards the webbings absence of disguise, i questioned “what am i?” instead of where a reason for repulsion held a sight. (ha)

maybe this is why?

this, the curse of the desire to ask, better understandings can entirely lose tired masks

you never want to know of what lie is the one that on which your reality stands because if want you to walk amongst these lands you must accept it, not fight with a force that forces a beneficiary lie if believed it being a concept we can even barley grasp. (ay)

move on past, welcome letting go

goodbye, ‘goodbye.’ (awsh+t)

h+llo

- hypnaddict lyrics

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