Lyrics Hi-Fi - Dream Mclean, ABi F JONES

Hi-Fi

Higher temperatures, I am meant for this
Riding on an icicle in a December mist
I’m feeling blessed with bliss, I’ve got my pencil gripped
Tryna write about what’s left of this
Cause what’s right is wrong, so what’s left is best
When only your heartbeat and breath is left
There ain’t nothing clearer than cleanliness
That’s why the doctors say «clear» when they press your chest
Cleanse your sins, cleanse your sense
Forget a press ticket, whose event is this?
And I am not on the list for the guests
But I guess you could be my guest if I guessed the list
24 missed calls, 9 messages
How’d I wake up next to this?
Are you tryna string me along?
And if so, what’s the length of it?
How long is a piece of string?
I can smell burning
How long was the pizza in?
But I don’t give a-, censorship
Shit, I’m in the next abyss
Filled up to the brim with emptiness
And that’s the strength of it, and so I guess this is
This is it (This is it, my nigga, this is it)
My eyes are open now (This is it, my nigga, yeah, this is it)
This is it, yeah
They can’t hold us down, it’s over now
Where the fuck did I put it?
When the fuck did I last have it?
Fuck’s sake
Alone, on my own, just zoning
Don’t know where my phone is, home is where the heart is
Fuck it, then I’m homeless, heartless bastard
Fuck it, I don’t know if my daddy noticed
That his son is fully grown yet, fuck it, I should phone him
I ain’t got his number, all I’ve got is Mum’s one
All I need is that and a toilet with a plunger
To get rid of this shit, knowing I’ll regret it
If I mess it with my chick, still I’m messing with this bit
Who’s a seven at best, maybe seven and a bit
On a good day, but this is a bad day
I’m using a beer bottle as a flipping ashtray
Convincing myself I’m winning in this rat race
And that mirror’s just a picture of a sad face
Listen to my damn pain, feeling smaller than the pin’s point
André feeling Outkast in a room full of 3000 Big Bois
Feeling like a skinny kid, wishing that I did 'roids
Feeling like a wasteman, wishing I was employed
Like I’m on my deathbed, wishing that I enjoyed life
While I coulda done, shoulda woulda done
Listen to the bass, listen to the drums
Have you ever had a dream
That you were being chased but couldn’t run?