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letra de ballad of ad nauseam - nathan r. allen

they ask about my life and how it is
i say i’m sick of getting rewarded for my cowardice
and not embracing challenges
sick cause i’m surrounded with
sectarian politics and vengeance games
negligence and petty scr-pes
screams mollified for selfish sakes and when the
camel’s spine is bisected, dc will get the blame
but we sewed the clothes in the bureau, leaders dress and wave
no one will confess mistakes
it feels like things might never change, but…

(in no time at all, this will be the distant past)
i guess that’s a consistent fact
but all that talk about patience makes me feel placated
i’m a fetus needing english so these screams can be language
yoked myself to this trade, slave ‘til vindication
mama’s pushing her hardest but i still strap on the harness

i’m angry, i’m alone
but i’m afraid to find a home
cause in my memory, ident-ty breeds codependent enemies
no one joins a team without a podium they’re intent to reach
pardon me; my role models broke bread with jack h-rner
told themselves they were good boys, told me the house was war-torn
stigmatized my emotions, don’t ask where my mentors were
fear-fed crack baby rock-a-byed in the corner
my stepdad is the internet
cause no one tests my intellect

propaganda told me i wasn’t made by my hood
but its initials have signed every single page in my rhyme book
and if i can’t blame my parents for my social anxieties
then how do i reconcile biases born as my siamese?
what kind of legacy can i expect to leave when i don’t trust
and never speak to anyone in the cubicle next to me?
i’m groupthink cruising, guarding chimeras of safety
in a pit of hypochondria cause it’s gone on for long enough

i cling to the earth as hard as i scream to be uprooted
impatience and discomfort send me retreating to my music
my cradle walls broaden as the teats i feed on become more discreet, i age
my strictly-meat palette of tête-à-tête prevents true symmetry
fear’s a ubiquity but i’ll blame what progenitors did to me
my whole ego is built on being philosophically homeless
i keep to myself, i reap reciprocal coldness

- nathan r allen

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