Half Pages

V1:

I got nothin’; empty, empty lovin’.

I sit and write forced, antiquated songs hummin’...

I’m at the end of the rope my wits were tied to;

I died to the idea that I died too...

I dyed through: my colors bled.

Irrational consumption inside my head; I start

Half pages: make empty promises.

If words are metaphors, then what defines what honest is?

My apologist needs to do some writing—

I’m too busy tryin’ to figure out the right thing,

And rhyming?! There goes the neighborhood!

Why strive for greatness when subpar is good?

Chorus:

Mediocre lines going through my head

I just don’t give a fuck

Don’t walk away when it’s time to stay

I just don’t give a fuck

V2:

Now here’s something: an inkling of lovin’

Hit hard 16, feel my heartbeat thumpin’

Ironic consumption’s the deal we strive for

Take but make nothing’s a deal to die for—

A season, a phase; the fog through the haze;

And there’s a reason for night and day.

The kiln and the clay, no answers just ways,

And who knows? We might find it in a page;

With a burst of verses, all writ with purpose,

The calm become incredible and burst the nervous.

The first to flourish, who curse lip service

The buoyant, clairvoyant, mixed with hip-hop pureness...

Chorus:

Mediocre lines going through my head

I just don’t give a fuck

Don’t walk away when it’s time to stay

I just don’t give a fuck

Lyrics by MCDC

Written by Electrik Ants

Produced and Mixed by Jeff Collins

©Electrik Ants 2018