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letra de parasomniac - balram veeragoo

[hook: 1]

tattoos really don’t cost a lot
couple grams of weed don’t cost a lot
liquor, henny don’t cost a lost
a pack of menthols don’t cost a lot
hermes links might cost a lot
louie things might cost a lot
rari dreams they cost a lot
so this pride ain’t free this cost a lot

[verse: 1]

the wife of a fisherman who went out to sea
under a great wave laid his legacy
a systemic tradition of p-rnographic tendencies
so 2 fingers couldn’t fulfill her fantasies
insatiable like a p-rnstar on elbows and knees
driven by the prospect of an -n-l scene
so she set the mood for what was to be
and through the front door crawled 2 times 8 16
slithered into her every orifice
she was helpless yet never more fulfilled
ero goro the drug of choice she picked
afflicted by this drug she was an addict
as dusk turned dawn she went to her fridge
pulled a couple sponges put it where she was leeched
put her dress on to cover all her sins
as she sat on the floor waiting for some fish
like eyedrops after you smoke some weed
or caffeine after drinking a fifth
when the fisherman came home from the sea
she pretended as if nothing was remiss
and so carried on this story of bliss
echoed through her life she was hurting within
skin deep was as far as what was revealed
director said cut and print beautiful miss

[hook: 2]

[verse: 2]
so whats ma stance?
am i the wife or the fisherman
the talent? or the director that calls for extra hands?
to try and understand i’m all but none of them
at the same time at a given time only one of them
in wetlands, 2 feet you can sink fast
if i stayed home no worries about the forecast
had i stayed on ma boat would have reached the mainland
but f-ck a sailboat at this point i need a life raft
so i play these roles to progress i foray
in a maze of grey and white, i decay
the longer i stay the more i stray
into fields cultivated by cosmic arrays
lobotomize my brain through vices i portray
insecurities and mollusks capsize my brain
but they don’t keep me away from crossing rivers of the dead
the labile brain has its own things to say

[hook: 3]

- balram veeragoo

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