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letra de shithead prose - latin for truth

all the saint’s in the cellars hiding beneath the art they made
who’s to say a miracle can be measured visually
i’m over my indifference cause it doesn’t fit
art is h-ll and i’m not the poster boy for it

who’s to blame, i guess it’s me
felt like sh-t when i got the call
who’s to blame, i guess it’s me

ruth, i’m sorry, i gave up because i was weak
you taught me better, that will endure
all the things you lived for through mе

fold me out on the bed i madе
i disrespected myself and from where i came
double stitched my problems to every spot i lay my head
till there was no room left for me in my bed

hiding out or hiding in
losing time or cutting risks
sp-cing out or disconnecting or spitting sh-thead prose in the wind?

ruth, i’m sorry, i gave up because i was weak
you taught me better, that will endure
all the things you lived for
through me
sh-thead prose for a human dynamo
how can something so ugly give the world some thing beautiful
i pass my time with the simple wonders of day to day
i’m not sure there is another way
but i do try when i think of who’s given me
the opportunities i passed on to find myself
and where am i after years of searching
still 12 years old at 24
i’m still 12 years old at 24
i’m still 12 years old at 24

- latin for truth

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