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letra de hypoxia - home bowman

hear my truth
i’m a bl–dy mess
i’m feeling every song i write
stab me in my chest

you don’t know a f-cking thing
about the sh-t i left
every heart i broke just to
penny pinch the stress

put a smile on and wink
like i’m using crest
hide the animus in cannabis
who want it next?

i just have the better formula
y-intercept
they’re still talking like i’m bad at this
i interject
you think that you’d do better b-tch?
i’d like to see you sweat
i’ll do you worse than back when daddy
used to make you stretch

oh my god…

let’s take it back i was 17 up in garci’s class
saw you were crying in the corner so i came to ask you
what the f-ck was up, it’s something bout that girl ash
i talked you through it, that’s a memory that i cannot bash

another time i was tearing on telegram too rash
you were there to help me through the days i couldn’t last
even when my jaw was clenching chewing on a pencil
i still love you for the moments that we shared in past

i hope the p-ssy was worth it i guess i’m moving on
i got some sh-t to explain but that’s a different song
another topic another day but i’m hanging on
why the f-ck am i still talking about october when

i’m stuck with panic disorder i barely see the sky
i turned my back on so many friends and they wonder why
i’ve burned so many bridges, made so many people cry
even called t—– an anorexic fly
i’m not here to be admired or smile i want an exit
keep the circle small i’ve been smoking and seeking respite
dipping my toes in the water always try to test it
i can’t love another person too much of an investment

breathing quick and my stomach’s growling i might not make it
try to calm with my palm on my heart that feels so vacant
another problem arises a deeper pit that’s inside of me
slowly fall to the side i’m suicidal

the end of my time is near i can almost taste it
a word of advice i would give you is not to waste it
i’m still so young but my body might need replacement
for 7 months i’ve been shrinking to almost weightless

if i make it i promise i will not turn out weak
i’ll write an album so heinous that it’d be leaving streaks
don’t have a title but know that i’ll make it extra bleak
if i don’t make it then f-ck it at least i died to me

- home bowman

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