Deep Down I'm Really Mark Smith - Crywank

Deep Down I'm Really Mark Smith - Crywank

  • Year of release: 2020
  • Language: English
  • Duration: 5:16

Below is the lyrics of the song Deep Down I'm Really Mark Smith , artist - Crywank with translation

Lyrics " Deep Down I'm Really Mark Smith "

Original text with translation

Deep Down I'm Really Mark Smith

Crywank

Some lines oh why did I write I have to repeat them night after night

Yes you can tell me I control my life but I feel humbled and I feel obliged

I miss not caring if what I make is good

And I miss the unproductive bullshit I love

And I miss my friends even more

And I get scared we aren’t friends anymore

Congrats to me for coming so far

Me rushing round Britain with a guitar making love to myself

How could I call it anything else?

I ruminate on the cognitive space where all contemplation is going it waste

Revolve through a cycle a figure of eight

I think about thinking about me

I know I am trying too hard

Always publicly trying too hard

I want to be cool and effortless

But every little thing is so much effort

I wonder what you think

The royal you

The chosen few

I wonder how I cause these stinks

To act natural is to be vulnerable

And so what’s the real goal

Is it just to be worshiped

As a way to like myself

Well I won’t think I deserve it

What I posit as a cure

It becomes evidence thereof

Of my fakery and flaws

And as the layers are torn off

And I return to my own space

With time alone inside my head

I’m still faced with who I am

And all I keep unsaid

What are you gonna do

What are you trying to do

What are your goals

Are you goal oriented?

So what’s the real goal

With any influence comes cowardess

The power projected on me

In the end makes me feel powerless

I’m paranoid, and yet perpetually interacting

With realms to build persona despite how it’s impacting

My ego and my friendships and my mental health

I hope I can transcend it but it’s my whole sense of self

So what the real is it to touch people with experiences which I’ve weaves into

fiction

To share my thoughts and beliefs of which I hold no real conviction

Become constructive contradiction so that you can learn from me

From the safety of my pedestals built from fallacies

I know I’m the fickle fucker

I know I am the selfish lover

I know I sad and undeserving

I know am privileged and I am also hurting

I keep being told the importance of self love

Some days I think I don’t hate myself enough

And if you relate does that make you bad?

And for making you relate does that make me bad?

And do I glorify what it is to be sad?

Should you just turn off?

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