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  • Genre:Spoken Word
  • Year of Release:2023

Lyrics

Hey, remember the brand new bands

Remember that one song, uh, Don't Let It Go To Your Head

Yeah, well, I let it go to my head

I let it go to my head


Unexamined assumptions, childhood trauma, and snap judgments

They say time heals all wounds, except the toxic ones still bled

I let on to others and opened new ones instead

Good thing I got some gauze from a friend


I did the trick for a while, as long as my ego got fed

Superficial was my style, since the bandage only concealed that which was red

Not sure how I managed all this time, ignoring the echoes of both my super ego and id

Surprised I didn't bleed out, and wind up dead


I was a prisoner of my pride, but a stranger to the underlying issues trapped inside my

Head

Or my heart, I'm not sure

It's as if self-deception was an art


I had constructed a narrative that only sought to see things from one side, mine

See, when you're stubborn, it's always easy to decide

I called it being hyper-competent and decisive

So confident I'd have made one of the best tour guides


So confrontational, never met an alternative perspective that I wasn't delighted to decry

Deconstruct, dismiss, and move aside

But why

Why was it so hard for me to let's humble myself and let wisdom in


There probably wasn't enough room

Then again, that's typically when it's time to take inventory or move

Decide what to throw away, and what it is you really need to prove

Before the answers start to fade


But also, to whom

Turns out I was afraid

I let character defects get in the way

Afraid to look back, back at abuse

Suffered a lack of honesty, lack of courage, and a


Lack of the truth

Which then led to emotional stowaways

Defense mechanisms, and an aptitude for excuse

Shipwrecked somewhere in the shadows of the Atlantic

There's an ancient rhythm to my blues


Though the tune is still quite tragic, the concrete is still where them roses grew

Still mourning ancestors I never met like Solomon's kids after he flew

Wait, back to Africa from slavery

Life didn't give me lemons, it sold them to me


Told me to use food stamps and then denied me aid

So don't ask me why I'm sour

More than half of my poor decisions stem from being poor and trying to get paid

Without going to prison


Deep within my DNA, there are already embedded triggers for my cues

Socialize to forget it

Ignore, endure, and then regret it

A kind of learned narcissism


The view's empathy is pathetic and normalizes pathology

Until it becomes prophetic or predictive

How many times can you get hurt before you get vindictive, resentful, and disappointed

After expectations prove prescriptive

Reality and ideals just seem disjointed

While most villains find their origins in once having


Been victims

And what about the day it all gets unpacked

The baggage bound up in some psychoanalytic bubble wrap with no idea who it's from

Generational curses get re-gifted since there's no way to give them back


The cycle just continues and starts over as soon as it's done like a racetrack

It's like the odds are stacked or the game is rigged

Not really meant to be won

But why specifically did I lose


I had choices to choose

I wasn't just under attack

Went to AA, counseling, and church looking for clarity

Clues, and some answers as to

What I lacked


A kind of experiment, in fact

And what I found was fear and ignorance

Paving the way for arrogance or inferiority cosplaying

As superiority to avoid embarrassment

Hate manifested as irritability, which was a cold cancer quietly killing me


Had to surrender my will, learn how to love

And take responsibility from the start of It

I had to resist resentment and look for my part in it, wherever it went

Then try and heal the scars from it or buff out the dents


But still, I was projecting the pain instilled in me at a very young age

I might have made it, but my resilience soon spoiled and turned into rage

However it only came in waves, making it harder to detect

I was oblivious to the long-term effects of psychological torture and neglect


My pride was the cage constructed for my survival

A fail-safe mechanism designed to protect

And help me feel safe from any foe or any

Rival

Which I didn't


Due to a lack of trust, still bitter from abandonment, my faith in people got crushed

Now, I needed to remind myself I was enough and that God is great

I'm free, not fixed, and my former mindset was a waste

No longer healthy, long overdue to be replaced


I'm in a new space, complete, not competitive

So unlike COVID results, I'm trying to be more positive than negative

This means sorting out the thoughts that bring others down and are less than generative

In other words, redirect criticism, mind my business

And stop calling them overly sensitive


For instance, it doesn't always matter what I like and don't like

Unfortunately, I don't always know when to let go and when to fight

When I should speak

Up and when to stay silent

I like to be cool, but my impulse is more defiant


I tell you, I'd argue all day if I had my druthers

But I should still try it

The Bible tells me to love my neighbor just like they my brothers

But instead I'd be overly opinionated and preoccupied with pointing out the flaws in


Others

Offering unsolicited correction like I'm top flight security to the world or better yet

Giving out pearls

But I ain't no better than anybody else


No matter what my pride got me saying to myself

It's but by God's grace I ain't broken on

A shelf, leaning on a ledge, or hanging off a cliff screaming for help

Cause pride comes before a fall

But humility is that perfect parachute that fits us all

Yeah, fits us all

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