LifeLines Lyrics

I am not a hobbyist

The chords and keys are not a past-time

Just sounds to be keeping me

This is not just for the stress

When I write these lines

I separate the truth from the lies

This is not just entertainment

This is cutting out a key

To a locked box under my bed

In hope to find my sustainment

This is crafting meaning out of words

Until my arraignment

This may be an exercise in futility

The hours in the mines

Chiseling out the fossils left of the rest of me

This is a reconstruction

Of a long, tired institution

That used to find shelter in my mind

Mind you, I'm not practiced in the art

A decade long journey only leaves me at the start

But I wouldn't be at it this long if it was only for the joy of it

This is either building a structure to stand the test of time

Or I will be the one destroying it

I'll follow the chords to the end

This sound is my lifeline

What the keys unlock is what can mend

This sound is my lifeline

Don't let it end

I didn't want these lyrics to become lectures

The buffet of battle cries is bound to grow old

But Speaking truth into silence gives no fire to my soul

The prose needs a firm hold to grasp

Sputtering purposeless poetry

Leaves no foundation that will last

All who fill their prose with empty words

Are bound to pass

If music is a forest

Let my words be an ax

To cut a path through

To grow with the poets who last

I'm threading blast chord into the sound

subtlety was never my strong suit

This will be rough and unappealing

Cause I was never one to keep it cute

As long as those I am trying to speak to

Keep leaving me on mute

I'll mark the part of me trying to be seen for deletion

Save and execute

I'm no carbon copy character

Keeping context out of mass

I'm marking meaning in the meter

Making matter into glass

Growing greatness in the gallons

Getting greener every task

Tell you truth about the timbre

There no tale you just have to ask

I'm pardoned for the project

Prose projected to the back

Baked and breaking

Bearing bitterness behind the broken mask

Marred by men making manliness in to a moronic act

Ask my later about the identity I'll be burying in the back