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lyrics

I wake up in the coldest bed/ alone and stretched out no more holding hands/ just a grown ass man sleeping shoulders pressed against the floor boards seeing his ceiling through a broken lense/ Knowing my life must be a joke with friends/ but I'm composed of stress propulsions the pressure/ measured by the hope the ends justify demeanor/ should've of known you can't make stoic fresh/ Especially when everybody's scoped on pleasure/ eyes kaleidoscope forever/ who'd of thought strength to be the downfall/ root the problem the trench the enemy pounds on/ 

Sleeping in the back unsure how fast we're living/ lost the woman of my dreams through the cracks in my fingers/ no peace, or even REM patterns/ insomniac who just wants a few winks to be with her/ in her embrace I never knew limits/ felt stable nothing to lose living the precipice/ went from booster influenced blue chipping to a future invested in solitudes wingspan/ in a vacuum of space with no wind beneath it/ refuel the iron eagle or combust to phoenix/ what's the meaning forgot how inspired feels/ dragging this pick axe through the mine fields/ used to touch the sun for warmth/ Now my comfort zone's back to iceberg shoulders/ getting used to being sunk for once/ there's no room to float when your life's worth's quarters/ more useless tokens of hope/ fished from the well that we might turn corners/ a man who's just trying to cope/ risking it all before the light source novas/ 

credits

from Still Lifes Sabotage, released January 17, 2012
Written and Performed by Aeon Grey
Produced by Bashir

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Central Standard Des Moines, Iowa

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