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letra de dream - chonny jash

[intro]
endlessly. helplessly. ceaselessly. callously
senselessly. tactlessly. fractally. haplessly
agony. tragedy. patterned duality
haptically grappling me. backing the apathy
happenings hardly seem happening in sanity
stats are the adversary. friends are insanity
feelings still claw at me. logic will rot in me
dissonance will grow as the greys start to fall from me
trying holistically, failing consistently
sits in insistence, these ids; cysts’ persistency
pick and see sinfully. hypocrisy picks at thee
victim and culprit entwine in one entity
i am the murderеr. i’m the fatality
they’re just a vеstige. count ‘one, two, three.’
slow. old. sick. cold
heart. mind. slay. soul
blood. falls. threefold

panic at the thought of what the thought will bring: apathy, entropy, agony, ecstasy in who to be, when we unleash all these harmonies’ maladies
i don’t know if i can go another round of cacophony, my sympathy’s draining me dry
how much deeper can they dig my sunken eyes?
where’s the line?
won’t they just let me writhe inside and let my sides aside so they can realize
to let me die;
that that’d be fine?
at least then i’d finally hear silence and sleep well one night
and yet here we are, sopping wet
mind and heart, crying, dying covered in our blood and sweat
now we sit; intermit; flail and flit; chip and hack, bit by bit
this is it. this is it. this is it. this is it

[verse 1]
this is a f-cking nightmare
they’re right there
the sick, black-and-white fright fare
prepping for the fight where no one wins
see the silhouettes sneak on in
[see the marionette restring.]
encased within a sickly filament of arrogance
they’re happenstance of consciousness
what do they think this is?
and why do they think to usurp me while i weep? while i sleep. theirs to reap
one, two, three. one, two, three. one, two, three. one, two, three
this is the end of me…
[verse 2]
but i am not done yet
existence is transient
there’s still another sunset
to be found inside this tangent
so i will try again
and perhaps when we become whole, it’ll hold
perhaps that’s optimistic
and i’m not one for the mystic
but i’d rather die trying
than to live and have missed it
and i cannot resist – though futile it is to admit – to insist to use these gifts
cosmically kissed. -n-logous to the abyss
apollo and artemis [we] will not die
perhaps we’ll meet at tycho
or somewhere more solar, yet colder
this world’s hard to shoulder
but when harmonia shines, atlas beholds her
so bathed in serenity; beauty, in synchronicity;
blissfully entwined. divine
so i will try one more time…

- chonny jash

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