The Cover-Up

[Verse 1]

Do you remember how you look without your makeup on?

or (meaning) how your heart felt before your break-up?

…on life goes.

The cover-up is worse than the crime.

Why we all use artificial light when we shine so bright

with the lights off?…

run so fast with the Nikes off…

throw away the keys, take the bikes off-road…

and roll to places we never show

take back everything we ever stole from ourselves and

stowed up on the higher shelves, hiding from our higher selves,

we’re wandering under wand-less spells,

it dwells in a place so deep where we speak with

no insecurities

no impurities

pure are these thoughts but they like dirty talk

words doing the dutty-wine, heads-spinnin

it’s fine.

we’ll find level-headedness gets nowhere

we’re all too busy not being beings to care

so we won’t let it go to our heads

let the head push it back down instead

we’re sippin on the same Kool-Aid we’ve bled

put on our best shoes just to be misled

it seems everybody’s singin bout ‘get bread’

but you don’t even see cuz of how it gets said

we’re sleeping on ourselves–we are our own beds

never live up to potential we were fed, we won’t let it go to our heads

[Verse 2]

I’m in a room full of people everybody’s looking down

conversation is nowhere to be found…

cuz everybody’s on their phone

might as well have just stayed home

why come out in public for what you could do alone?

and it’s tv’s everywhere. what’s on we don’t care.

just stand there and mindlessly stare

buy a couple drinks to remind us we there

in a couple weeks you’ll find us, we there

back there–same spot–more Facebook friends

but less to depend on if ever Facebook ends

the topic that trends

is changing every second

wonder as we get connected, real connections are we wrecking

are we stepping closer to each other or moving apart?

seeing more light or making more dark?

you my Ace, but I don’t know your number by heart

I feel lonelier and dumber

but my phone’s so smart

with a lot of numbers in it

most of em wouldn’t call

pick me up from the airport

or catch me if I fall

so I guess that’s all

I guess that’s all

I won’t let it go to my head, let the head push it back down instead

am I sippin on the same Kool-Aid I’ve bled

puttin on my best shoes just to be misled

and if everybody’s singing bout ‘get bread’

will they listen to me when my words get said?

or am I sleeping on myself?–maybe I’m my own bed

will I live up to potential I was fed…will I let it go to my head?

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