Matt Tybor - Logic | Текст песни

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• Matt Tybor
• Logic

Luster in the eyes of pretty faces
I don't want to breath, I don't want to taste this
This is the drought of elusiveness.
As it wrinkles your pupils and it gyrates your hips.
And I don't want to talk anymore
Because we both know this ends with your back on the floor.
Let alone, on my knees in a garden of trees burning bright for a fight that excels disease.
And you ride light and tight like it's fueling your life
but we both know it's lost to the pain of the thrust and the moment I bust
Living large at expense of a crutch.

You are the sun in all it's glory, burning livestock in the quarry
of an episode of crush and in the hopelessness of touch.

I'd rather die.

I doubt my words could move a mountain or bring children to their knees
I doubt in ten years all this logic will mean anything to me.
I left my anchor on a pedestal for hearts and faulty souls
I left my body on your bed and left your honesty in clothes

So, I'll try to take my time with the words that I say.
Better yet, save some rhymes for another day.
And when the motions don't speak to what's left of me,
I'll devise influence from the grinding of teeth.
Or a minor note, well, I don't like those
But the sounds they create keep me on my toes.
And the words that will form, when you say my name
And the trust that you traded me for some blame.
Or the influence we laid on each others ears
Only lies we created, shifting rusted gears
of exact population spanning figments of truth.
of exact population being used by you.
And I can't bite my lip just for the touch of finger tips
Because pollutions taken hold and all my arteries are cold.

I build my self esteem off my self pity
I keep on falling into sin with these hands
I savor moments of thin air to breath motives
And I spit my seed on all your plans.

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