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letra de living hell - clayton jennings

i wake up, and my mind starts racing
so i throw up, and i start pacing
you say you’ve never had anxiety, my god, that must be amazing
i can’t find the root of mine, believe me, i’ve tried tracing
but i walk around like your words don’t phase me
inside i hate it when people trash me but feel insecure when they praise me
“clayton, your poetry is incredible
you honestly amaze me
dear anxiety helped me, and please don’t k!ll yourself saved me”
suicidal thoughts force me to picture arabelle and jamie, and the beast inside of me is like, “clayton, can’t tame me!”
it’s the depression talking when i feel crazy
and that’s more often than not, lately
i look to heaven like, “god, please save me!”, and i get nothing in return
the devil sits back blushing as i burn
i feel disgusting, my stomach turns
why do people obsess over me? this isn’t your concern
you wanna know the real me? just listen, and you’ll learn
i’m tired of working for something that i can’t earn
i’m tired of falling when it’s my turn
i’m tired of these voices, and i’m tired of you
it’s like my fans judge me for every little thing that i do
“i heard this about you, clayton, is it true? is it true?”
as if somehow i answer to you
heres a suggestion, i’ll do me, and you do you
don’t act like you know me if you’ve never walked in my shoes
i’ve been slandered, manipulated, and physically abused
so i write poetry because it helps with the blues
i listen to the man in the mirror, and he helps me choose
that’s why i tell my daughter to be herself, and she’s only two
because i know if she doesn’t define herself, someone else will
i tried finding my peace in the shape of a pill
along came the devil to take and to k!ll
i trust n0body, are they fake or are they real?
i lie awake shaking, and i can’t sit still
crying out, “help me!”, but n0body will
there’s a time to laugh and a time to k!ll
and to be honest, i’m ready to die
i have no more tears left to cry, “yo, god, why did you make me, huh?! answer me, why?!”
can’t save me, but i still try
like i’m doing cpr on myself
crisis poetry relief, and it sells
and the picture of my girls just sits on my shelf
i feel a shift in my health
the devil comes lurking, and i’m overwhelmed
he wants the spotlight, and i want the stealth
i want peace, the world wants wealth
we’re not alike, look at me, i can tell
broken ribs from christians who kicked me when i fell
i point people to heaven, you condemn them to h-ll
i’m thirsty for living water, man, where’s that well?
i’m not okay, and i don’t feel well
i got a secret for you if you promise not to tell
i’m loud in my poetry but live alone in a sh-ll
been so close to death, i got a whiff of its’ smell
it’s like i’ve been cursed by some witch with a spell
been struggling to stay afloat if you can’t tell
waves of anxiety, i get swept in the swells
imprisoned in my paranoia, i’m locked in its’ cell
what’s the point in living when life’s a living h-ll?

- clayton jennings

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