YC (Yung Chris)
Attachments
Magnetic attachments, I can’t get it or hack it
Add it up and subtract the panic
Cause I masked it while batting my lashes
I think I should nap where it’s padded
Who knew these rascals would cause such a racket?
They've got no answers? I shouldn’t have asked, then
Tap on my nerves, I’m cursed with the saddest
Heart locked in my pocket
It’s so caustic, drives nails through my coffin
I’ve stopped talking cause I just get lost in
Such conflict (always what I wanted)
But stop/pause it, and adjust posture
Realign the positives, and still falter
Slick ground and so I slip farther and then I
Sip vodka and sit til departure

Are my cheeks flushed? Cause I feel the cheap rush
They say I need them, but I think they just need love
And so I listen to the noises and
I give in when they’re voicing opinions with their silly little voices
Cause really, am I living with a choice here?

I think I’m sick like a sinner sitting in the Sistine, seen as a splinter
Just a quick and simple shifting with the scissors
Like I’m slitting wrists while I’m sinking in this splendor
So send her to her center
Better yet, return her to sender
Reverse each verse first then surrender
Disposed of my soul and hoped I could mend it
But I’m dying while I’m dining on my silence
And the timings never right, or so I’m finding
Confide in the divide inside my head
I’m left to my devices cause these vices are inviting
So I guess I’m undecided
When every time you blink an eyelid guillotine hybrid
Fuck climbing, can’t adjust to the climate
Cause these blinders got me blinded by the light that’s never shining