| I don’t like walking anymore
|
| It gets me closer to the people that I don’t know
|
| And they don’t want me anymore
|
| ‘Cause all we do is party, party on cortisol
|
| I have a stash behind my temporal bone
|
| But every time I try to share it with people they produce it on their own
|
| So, buddy, I’ll better be staying at home
|
| I don’t like walking anymore
|
| I don’t like talking anymore
|
| Every word I drop just flattens every toe
|
| And I can’t stand how they look at me, no;
|
| The fear and the hate is so ferociously overthrown
|
| So I will be back against the wall
|
| With a chameleon jacket and a bucket of ethanol
|
| It’s just the way that it has turned out to be
|
| That the brain is burning the «me»
|
| I’ll keep my word from you till I am alone
|
| I don’t like talking anymore, no
|
| I don’t like being Jay C
|
| When all you people look at me
|
| Like I’ve got a fucking idea
|
| Of how to solve your misery, well I tell you one thing:
|
| Although I ain’t no Queen
|
| Bee/B/"Be yourself" is the best advice from the «The Hawkins Ministry»
|
| And I, I know that it’s simple and clean
|
| But that is all, all that I am ready to be
|
| It’s just the way that I am letting it go
|
| Building bridges over every rabbit hole
|
| It is my solitary mind
|
| (ah-ah-ah-ah) staying alive when facing adversity
|
| I’m fighting fire with fire but
|
| I just don’t wanna be me |