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letra de the great performance - introvert (fl)

the curtains climb to the ceiling, and the lights dim
all eyes on the miles of the shoes i tried to walk in
maybe once too often, stalked by bitter silence
to memorize the lines that were etched into my irises
followed the script ’till i was part of the plot line
found the spot where these two lives intertwine:
one where my reflection wouldn’t look me in the eye
and the other with a confidence that i could never recognize
i built these bones out of lethargy and broken gl-ss
pieced the mask together with torn out pieces of the past
st-tched the smile with surrender, it didn’t take long
before this body became a costume that i couldn’t take off
the premise sounded perfect. all i did was practice
adapted to the characters that i carefully crafted
but knew i was a miscast the moment that my mouth
started reciting words that i knew i wouldn’t write myself

i’ve played the lover, best friend, and the son
i’ve played the pillar, the temple, lifeline, and the loaded gun
played the optimist, the pessimist, i’ve even played the gl-ss
i’ve played the characters so long that i forgot this was an act
reality’s a p-ssing glance. truth, a novelty
promise is just a simple misstep from dishonesty
i didn’t lie on purpose. learn for certain it’s a habit
i’m not open like a book, love. i’m open like a casket

see, i’m the beggar with a suit and tie, lover with no alibi
hit and miss, i learned to kiss with lips that taste like iodine
and clean my slate so heaven’s hate doesn’t feel so distant
the stench of cleanliness is mighty inconsistent
sometimes i smell like cigarettes and last calls
face painted with regrets from memories i p-ssed on
i won’t p-ss on until i learn what the words mean
the pressure behind every one is starting to concern me
happy hour has been echoing like church bells
it makes this innocence somewhat of a hard sell
but i’ve found every time that i’m down
i can figure out my problems just by looking around
at all the trouble that surrounds my gl-ss, eyes glazed and looking past
my surroundings while i’m drowning. life and death fail to contrast
juxtaposed, thrown away, a symptom of our dying days:
were nothing more than memories at the bottom of an ash tray

i’ve played the lover, best friend, and the son
i’ve played the pillar, the temple, lifeline, and the loaded gun
i’ve played the optimist, the pessimist, i even played the gl-ss
i’ve played the characters so long that i forgot this was an act
reality’s a p-ssing glance. truth is a novelty
a promise is just a simple misstep from dishonesty
i didn’t lie on purpose. learn for certain it’s a habit
i’m not open like a book, love. i’m open like a casket

i’m just a normal guy that happens to make music
shifting through the notes to figure out what the truth is
this is to the pages that i’ve scribbled on and scratched out
just so i could hear the way an empty heart and pen sounds
but it sounds like death; it sounds like contempt; it sounds like secrets that i kept
tucked neatly underneath my bedsheets
so i could be closer to the truth when i fall asleep
it’s not to say that i won’t let em out
but you shouldn’t be surprised when i contradict myself
we’re only human. thoughts change, so do you
inconsistency shouldn’t be anything new
i’m left to stumble, and it’s purely out of habit
my eyes try to find where life and song attach
this is a promise. the reason i’m so distant is
the difference between right and wrong has gotten so ambiguous

- introvert fl

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