Slange - Interlude (Meditation/Reflection) Lyrics

Isn't it crazy how quickly a mattress becomes our bed?
How we have so many words for things that feel like home?
How comfortable we feel sleeping in our own skin
How peaceful it is bathing in someone else's
It's late
Not as late as it will be
But I break as the moon begins setting
I can't escape the actions of my past
But it's fate that they made me who I am
I pray for you
More than I pray for me
That's a paradox of thought cause I'm selfish when I call
Wanna hear so I have means to stay
Wanna solve so you need to stay
And rot away in rooms a cave
No house a home
Just bodies meant to erode
And form together
Vows made to die
Time kills us
Drains of energy and hope
Compacts us into capsulated moments that define us forever
Simply
It sucks
To know a frame of mind can shape your life when you only believed the feeling for a self or two
Versions forgotten or adaptated to better fit your evolving habitats
Where is your heart?
Who holds it?
Cause I see no sleeves and don't hear it beat as your breath slows to a pace for sleep
I know I bring out the worst in you
Moments that you should be collected
I also know I'm aimless
As far as who and which direction
I'm just spinning on top a conglomeration of matter formed a planet that rotates, exists, and emits at such a Rapid rate that I would rather drift like I speak than stay bound to it in space
I am
A conciousness tied to a five foot eleven, twenty something year old, 14 tatted, cynical analytic who wants Nothing more than a reciprocation of emotion and desire of digesting perspectives in life as I sought after
I could barely follow
But i let my fall guide my foot and find my path as I continue to scrape by
I
I feel as though I've faded through these skins ive shed
That my colors have dimmed as the years gone by and now my hue reflects me too well
I am
I am Jesse Pinkman bitch

Isn't it crazy how quickly a mattress becomes our bed?
How we have so many words for things that feel like home?
How comfortable we feel sleeping in our own skin
How peaceful it is bathing in someone else's
It's late
Not as late as it will be
But I break as the moon begins setting
I can't escape the actions of my past
But it's fate that they made me who I am
I pray for you
More than I pray for me
That's a paradox of thought cause I'm selfish when I call
Wanna hear so I have means to stay
Wanna solve so you need to stay
And rot away in rooms a cave
No house a home
Just bodies meant to erode
And form together
Vows made to die
Time kills us
Drains of energy and hope
Compacts us into capsulated moments that define us forever
Simply
It sucks
To know a frame of mind can shape your life when you only believed the feeling for a self or two
Versions forgotten or adaptated to better fit your evolving habitats
Where is your heart?
Who holds it?
Cause I see no sleeves and don't hear it beat as your breath slows to a pace for sleep
I know I bring out the worst in you
Moments that you should be collected
I also know I'm aimless
As far as who and which direction
I'm just spinning on top a conglomeration of matter formed a planet that rotates, exists, and emits at such a Rapid rate that I would rather drift like I speak than stay bound to it in space
I am
A conciousness tied to a five foot eleven, twenty something year old, 14 tatted, cynical analytic who wants Nothing more than a reciprocation of emotion and desire of digesting perspectives in life as I sought after
I could barely follow
But i let my fall guide my foot and find my path as I continue to scrape by
I
I feel as though I've faded through these skins ive shed
That my colors have dimmed as the years gone by and now my hue reflects me too well
I am
I am Jesse Pinkman bitch