Lyrics Solitude - Emay, Hollow Pigeons

Solitude

The same view Lenin imagined
Pen to the canvas, solitude
I ain’t even in that state with the same name
It’s like the legend of Kansas
I’m really in misery
Envision dim symmetry
The balance that I seek is due to the imbalance that I keep
Hidden in, the day breaks with me and
That is why I sleep
When the sun rises my demise is, awake
Funeral, all black everything
But black’s beautiful
So maybe that death was breath
And the darkness is really what consumes that cubicle
Mundanity defeats one’s sanity, but the beats, are like a crack in the window
when it creaks
'Cause it takes me to a peak
So peep
I ain’t tryna be a sheep, no Bo-Peep
So when life slow blows try to slow-mo creep I don’t load fo-fo's I do
Four for Jeep like
The same view Lenin imagined
Pen to the canvas, solitude
The same view Lenin imagined
Pen to the canvas, solitude
My mother doesn’t believe in me
Wondering why I, can’t just conform and live a life of decency
Never A+ student only decent C’s
Only bitterness and
Tears never peek and see
And comparing me to peers, so none of these bars bare happiness
Stop preparing me to Cheers, I’m weary and I barely
Need a beer
Going in and out of jobs like odd ones
I’m disengaged, far from merry
My altar faltered when I couldn’t alter and sacrifice, maybe I’ll be
Frowning in an after life
If so, so be it
I’m hoping this party don’t get corrupted, so Soviet
But most don’t see it, see his, cause evidence
Smiles
Disappear so it’s imminent
Eminence, I don’t really seek anymore
Super Mario N64 infinite staircase
My main aims to my right side
Flamethrower to my left side
At the moment runnin in the middle so maybe I’ll quit rapping when it
penetrates the left eye
But I’m a keep pushing til I get by
That’s the train of thought, how I train the thots
No peace but I’m tryna obtain a plot
To build something worth dying for
Time flies might die in four
Do I mean minutes or hours
The clock swings are impenetrable
The same view Lenin imagined
Pen to the canvas, solitude
The same view Lenin imagined
Pen to the canvas, solitude
Can’t beat it
Too much chaos is why I jack mics and why I rap nice
A white world, black dice
Knees already sore I ain’t
Tryna ask Christ
Every step is the last flight
Oceanic, 815 but I don’t even panic
Let the plane split
Maybe I’ll gain more courage but the same wit
Assuming I don’t die in the process
Transforming «I can"s out of «not-yet"s
But not yet
I made cowardice
The shell of a snail is hard but powerless
Never more slow, sloth-like
So I had to lean left to talk right
And I used to hate politics, until I seen how the stroke of a pen contains
dominance
So I’m tellin them be honest because you ain’t beyond this
This song is, armed with, sounds of the place I seek