Elegy - Youngblood Brass Band

«I'm sorry»:

It’s easy to say when you’ve got arms to find solace in

And lips to get drunk on

I remain ink-stained, disdained, ingrained

Are you feeling entertained?

I used to wonder what the pain was like

When my father’s heart exploded

Common art sold it but this won’t settle for silence

Now I’m volatile with self-violence

Trust me

Even patience wouldn’t try this venerable eye-sense

Since I found a beat left dying on the street

And took her home to pen-stitch the bleeding rhythm

She’d been selling ism

And we shared stories of correlating detonated coronaries

It’s beyond scary

But fear is the little death and I’m no muad’dib

You colonized my Arrakis

Helpless melange addict

With the right tactic and the wrong practice

Faulty emotional stillsuit

Left me dehydrated and rapless

Let the desert have me

I didn’t know it was the last kiss

You never told me it was the last kiss

You never told me shit

So now you’re gone

I’ll play the solo solar soldier

That’s eternally ignited

So now where’s your coal

(Gone) to hell in an old soul

It cannot burn like this

Trial by nostalgia

Like it’s all love, all over, all just

I guess I’m all folding

Because God knows I can’t deal holding sole trust

Thought I was quicksilver but its gold rush

Beat my cold crush into the promised land

I took a last stand

Before that promise banned

I tried to show promise jazz but it wandered past my thumb

And I hitched a ride alone to strife’s home

A microphone, a pen, and bad company to keep

Some things seem to seep out your pores

Embedded too deep to be indebted to speak

I’ll be better next week

In the bed where you freak

I’m dead as text

Believe me it’s not the sex

No pity please

No patronizing subtlety suffering me

No laughing irony

Publicly comedy tragically badgering my process of not mastering loss yet

(This) game set (to) match (light)

At least give me enough cash to get back… right?

Airport sadness, indeed

Cause I train MC’s in ways of emitting verbal rays

But this shit’s got me busted

Like mass transience… or transcendence

We all gotta transcend

Gotta transcend

Gotta transcend

Better a brother or father?

At least you kept it in the family

And I shouldn’t have assumed

That, as moons rise, only astute eyes see

My mindscape’s tenements bathed in light

Project-laden fright

See, night is the time I place self-wrought wooden dowels

Between street signs so as to build thought-ladders

The rungs, my lungs, exhale into you

Admittedly codependent

What makes it worse are the love-locks I built in front of the gateway

With each day I add a level

But your skeleton key sees through it all with those three words

So why keep building?

If distance is the answer I can fake it

And call it ascension

A.K.A.

not giving attention to how I really feel

And I don’t even know what that rung is

My greatest regret was not making this ladder/letter for two

I am what I write, and I wrote this all about you

I’m all about you

I’m all about you

I’m all about… you