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thr - act i / act ii lyrics

[act i]
paint a vivid picture with your sense of wits and intellect
i wait to liberate what i’ve written yet so you can collect
came down like rain on paper. tearing now my face is drenched and wet
pan greatly from the set that’s made of damp pillows and strip the bed
drowned in debt, dominating my d-mn sanity again
devastation drains me, demons doctor calamities i threat
dawning deals of distress dementing this dome. dripping, seeing red
the devil endowed me with his dialect ’til the day i’m dead
doomed directing this disdain to try to get it out my way
like maybe i’ll be able to live gratefully. it pains to say
the least to breathe now breach the feeding fear that creeps about the same
amount of plays that i will wait for saving grace to take the stage
dangerously made. anger mixed in pain
caters with the hate. major big mistake. ache
aimed to rid my brain. shape hurt into rage
turn basic paper to a page with range from paint spurts to some shapes-apes
phase engage. we’ll change this plague and tape the scr-pes up. haven’s safer. oh but bro. this ocean flows opposing those with rogue approach
i lay awake with shame. i’m breaking, cranking ways to make this bank. f-ck pros who prose, proposing blows to scold the bold that hold some hope
let’s wrangle angels. great then. grate them, dangle jays at same high angles. blow the holy old hand drones by hose to soak maestros like hoes
we only pray they’ll cope, too, lately, golden, grade-a, costly stakes slay nosotros. ¡coño! somos bobos
yo. no, i can’t shake this. craving some complacence
adjacent to strained angst stained in place of amazement
they train us to get paid, fade rich
hey, b-tch! tame clinched fame. it’s
strange. bigwigs claim business bases
basically the whole shebang
disquisitions may distance brave wishes
insane it is how it is. tiss

[act ii]
lights off. camera cut. curtain close. show’s over
loads of potent power pouring down my loafers that both cover
toes with nails ingrown the whole way while walking where winners love your
will to live but loathe mine like a joke. fine, though. a dozen clovers
are in need to wish i’ll own the throne. i’m overthrown. the wind has blown. first
time in like a minute since i’ve gotten cold under my cloak, fermenting
commotion when i want calm motion to cove. hurts
even me and i’m growing up in a lonely broken home, jerks!
i’m taking it slower
my heart rate’s low, so close to stopping. smash and hold fast forward
expo was my foreword. this is moreso closure for last quarter
i am crash and life’s a boulder rolling, flowing. rotate on dirt
and then fold, but it’s okay cuz i remain with warped thoughts covert
i’ll compose poems until i croak, shortly. i’m not a soldier
but this via dolorosa to my goal has got these vultures
down to corner me. make sure i don’t follow my dreams much longer
but f-ck that! i will run fast to the fun factory, come back
take my gun cap off and b-mp rap while i crumple up my bus p-ss, thug rats
to show you i’ll screw myself, but don’t toy with my couth, you brutes
even if i can’t return, let me turn peepers to execute
these burning blinders bringing me eagerly towards the outside
my mouth’s wired now, viced which means i can’t get that help vied
jesus christ! please, be my eyes!

- thr lyrics

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