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lyrics
The Conversation
(Rhine)
Verse
Look at my son, look his little baby dick
The doc’s got shots, it’s just a little pin-prick
Now you’re getting sick, incubate quick
I see you in the fish tank, I think I’m a heretic
Remember December? They told you I died
Entering my 2nd life, surprised I’m alive
I survived and I’m back in the arms of my mother
Smother me with love every day I wanna hug her
But dad right now I’ve really numbed that feeling
Flames in my brain I throw up through the ceiling
I endanger myself and I need some healing
I need you now to lift me up like helium
Take a minute to get in it cuz the world is yours to win it
Finish your dinner and watch the Mets’ll win the pennant
Bitterness isn’t a bit of business of a winner
Life’s a wheel of fortune, gotta be a spinner
Too many blows for you to soften
Far too often, I think of the coffin
I’m coughin’, I already used my restarter kit
Blow my brains, kurt cobain, give me that nirvana shit
Chorus
Dad, bury me now
Son, I don’t know how
Verse
Dad get on the phone, I think it’s mom
She’s callin me up but she’s never coming home
I try to hold my own in an unknown time
But I lay awake and I can’t stop crying
Why did momma get cracked in the skull?
Son, the ebb and flow is like a fatal blow
We were living high, gotta take the lows
Sometimes it rains, it pours, it snows
Just remember, burn like ember
Fight for your rights but not the gang members
Be a soldier of the world, pledge your allegiance
Rip up your draft card, it divides into regions
The lesions on her head make me hate this legion
Reason for treason turned up like the seasons
And I swear to God I’ll kill those kids if I
see ‘em. Believe it.
I see mom seizure and I try to bury it
Dad, will you sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot?
Son, it’s a huge weight, together we can carry it
I love you dad, but this one’s for Harriet
People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day. Well, actually I make music and torture myself watching the Mets and Jets. Brooklyn born n raised.
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