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the half artist - once an artist lyrics

i can never express enough whether microphone pen or brush
it’s been pouring out of me lately so much my eyes haven’t shut
it feels like a door in my head that i’ve never seen, opened up
what i once couldn’t reach artistically suddenly i can touch
i’m beyond a genre or outlet, the half will never be finished
the curse of creatives, made from a mould that no one else fitted
i can’t explain it, still the same jason but something’s different?
the more i release the quicker i find the means of existence
it isn’t art anymore, it’s documenting my thoughts
it’s complicated, i just need to do it, there’s no reward
no desire to perform, no l+st for praise or applause
i’m content just expressing myself through an art form
as long as the work is pure it can be made from a sin
i used to write what i know, now i write what people think+
and put what i feel into ink and go somewhere else when i blink+
and i manage to do all this standing on a circle that spins
the artist is my escape, i mix poems, people and pain+
and whatever i get my hands on, whatever helps me create
this song could be my greatest, keep doing it just in case+
my next could be even better, a chance i’m willing to take
i see 7 billion stories and neither one is the same+
but somehow i feel like i know you, you’ve got a familiar face
maybe we’re all connected but over time separate
and art is just an echo of who we were yesterday
is this f+cking thing on, you hearin’ me yet? capital text
i’m yellin’ out letters or better, screamin’ the alphabet
and somehow i found a story exhaled between each breath
it’s untitled, but the best chapter’s beneath my chest
i’m sorry for being weak but i’m back on the cigarettes
what the f+ck did you expect? i need more than liquor for stress
i hope you’re not ashamed cause this time i gave it my best
that voice inside my head said ‘jason, stick to your strengths’
(spoken word)
i can hear the rain just outside my universe, where my first priority is second nature
sometimes i just like to listen. to hear the colours, and the song of clouds rolling on the skies blue, and the pulse of green humming through a tree’s leaves, the roar of a floating circle through an endless symphony of vibration
that we all conduct differently

( back to rapping)
addicted, got the shakes, man, look what this art inflicted
a reason for being here by choice, i’m not a victim
i’ll live by the brush, die by depiction
master of the ugly, painter of pretty pictures

- the half artist lyrics

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