| There’s a space, it was clear in the place but
|
| All the grace disappeared, filled up, with all this stuff
|
| It’s too real not to hate how it feels, yes
|
| Can’t deal with the heal that it makes
|
| It’s getting too tough
|
| Give me no tangible, give me no hostile
|
| Give me respect as a human I ask you
|
| Give me your love, give me your laughter
|
| Won’t need no more matter, no manufacture
|
| (Show me your life (x4))
|
| Everything takes energy and time
|
| Stacking up possessions, in essence what you find
|
| Let’s focus on the mind, dividing
|
| I’ll be on a mission of not buying
|
| True I get too attached
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| To the clothes and the cars
|
| Saving shit like a packrat
|
| Might go in a jar
|
| And live in a corner
|
| I don’t use it, hell nah
|
| I really just want to be free from it all
|
| But I’m me damn it, and I’m learning the laws
|
| Not being ungrateful, could be worse off
|
| Maintaining a plateful, minus a stock
|
| I’m not gonna be wasteful, just tasteful, watch
|
| What I need a mansion for, to get lost?
|
| What I need expansion for, to be the boss?
|
| No loss, not interested
|
| Uh, I’d rather keep it way more simplistic
|
| There’s a space, it was clear in the place but
|
| All the grace disappeared, filled up, with all this stuff
|
| It’s too real not to hate how it feels, yes
|
| Can’t deal with the heal that it makes
|
| It’s getting too tough
|
| Give me no tangible, give me no hostile
|
| Give me respect as a human I ask you
|
| Give me your love, give me your laughter
|
| Won’t need no more matter, no manufacture
|
| (Show me your life (x4))
|
| We got a lot of things
|
| Rugs, balls, dolls, couches, hats, and rings
|
| Rather miscellaneous
|
| Now my baby want a metal detector, and my cranium
|
| Houses are dry, archives in the 70s
|
| Maybe I could stack it sky-high, full of memories
|
| Organized, lives are for into me
|
| Mama is a borderline hoarder, our energy
|
| Me cleansing, there’s no pretending
|
| Water for the gutter, if I stutter then it’s inching up
|
| I get to venting, singing such a song
|
| What’s the ending, not bringing much along
|
| 'Cause when you die you want your spirit to fly
|
| And when you here then you fear it’s a lie
|
| But if you try
|
| You could disappear without hiding
|
| Go on and cut the cords and keep rising
|
| There’s a space, it was clear in the place but
|
| All the grace disappeared, filled up, with all this stuff
|
| It’s too real not to hate how it feels, yes
|
| Can’t deal with the heal that it makes
|
| It’s getting too tough
|
| Give me no tangible, give me no hostile
|
| Give me respect as a human I ask you
|
| Give me your love, give me your laughter
|
| Won’t need no more matter, no manufacture
|
| (Show me your life (x4)) |