just using this to host some rough instrumentals & demo cuts of either scatterbrain, chatterbox, shades of gray, or soon might be too late tracks.
sincerely yours
boy genius.
Lyrics
scatterbrain- "the eating disorder"
beat- smif-n-wessun- "bucktown"
night after night,
i rest on the sofa,
holding my breath till its over,
knowing that demons are lurking.
i use the mozart record as hope but..
i feel i really need the assurance.
the pressure corrodes us,
since it started, my husband’s never been sober.
i just need the comfort and ability to rest on his shoulder..
life has yet to be kosher.
i play my mozart louder and louder..
but i still hear him puking and gagging
i fear for my life that he soon will be flat in his tomb or his casket..
he keeps the faucet running,
like i ain’t hear him through all the splashing.
i’m fearing tomorrow,
cuz after the tears and the sorrow..
i’ll be at his funeral lapsing.
eyes glued to the sadness..
i love him but hate him..
see, what he’s doing is savage.
my mind’s ruined, brain’s stewing, and my heart’s brewing w/ passion.
i catch him every now and then..
he hides his food in his matress.
this eating disorder’s fucked up his whole life..
from school to his habits.
i never gave up hope though,
regardless of how tense i was living.
regardless of the fact that we can smell the stench from the kitchen.
regardless of the fact i can feel my mentals submitting..
tempted to give in..
i cry myself to sleep,
feeling as if life’s essentials are missing.
i need to escape from this crap,
missing the days of my past,
sensitive enough to be pierced by a blade of grass.
cuz see, my son’s young..
real young.. and already he has an eating disorder.
something rustles in his room late at night..
and i can’t sleep till it’s over..
plus, i find it hard to believe that he’s sober..
making up lies & excuses.
i think he’s getting in fights at his schools cuz i keep eyeing these bruises.
life’s been hell..
i just wish i could help..
but it’s like he never will let me..
so i try and i try..
but time after time, the pressure’s against me.
see, the record player rests on my headpiece..
i pray & i listen.
hoping maybe my faith as a christian
will pull me through the anguish & pain i’ve been living.
but it has hasn’t.
& so, life continues w/ the usual stress & drama.
i have yet to target the exact problem,
hoping there’s a future for my son, jeffrey dahmer.
