Comes in a glossy digipak with four different panels. All photography by Logan Kruse. Disc artwork by Graves Hansen. All graphic designs by Shadow Devereaux & Keenan Nerby.
Includes unlimited streaming of RezErected
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ships out within 7 days
I’m so sick wit it.
Melting faces watching them shape shift.
Had a heart in a million pieces
Only use it if I need fixed.
Rude releasing demons
In this songlike form, but refuse to be a Jesus
Of what you consider normalcy.
Now we’ll see once the storm
Lets up enough to see.
What’s been right in front of your face
And what’s been hiding underneath.
The thin line between reality and what you believe.
One that I tend to consume that’ll keep me stuck
In the middle of each.
Heart pulsating to the beat.
Eyes fixated on the loose leaf.
Collecting all the thoughts that
My blank mind loosens free.
Polishing up these rhymes
With their different schemes.
To keep it relevant while developing a new scene.
Now the booze brings me nothing.
It just coats these insecurities.
So I’m drinking til’ the day ends
Writing, it is so endearing, huh?
Lovely lover boy loving love
Until it killed him loveless.
So really what is love
If the loveless isn’t dying, cousin?
I'm an artist, surprise! IF you couldn't see
Was a father to an artist who's real father really couldn't be
Often caught up in a world full of whirlwinds
Still standing still as it tilts and the world spins
I'm off my axis, my life has done a backflip
Landed on my feet and now it's time to get it cracking'
I'm an addict, addicted to this boom bap
Slick with the spit when I sip an consume tracks
Wearing kicks that could break a few necks though
Flu Game 12's on deck when I step slow
Making it easy so that you can see my feet
Written verses in my dreams because I do this in my sleep
Guess I'm set out to be nothing less than great though
Contemplated suicide this music was my scapegoat
Murder was the crime instead of time, I laid low
Lend me your attention spans before I take those
One part rhythm. One part syndrome
Sipping Rex cold sent from the sin zone
If Hell is on fire then heaven is windblown
The chance I'll get higher is the same as dying in homes
I've never been old
At least I've never been told
I'm too old to booze, smoke, fuck, upchuck, then lend hope
Break poems down like tent poles
Living life tired
That's not what my bed was meant for
Put me back to sleep
See how my dreams end
Seems a sea of meanings can drowned out the meaning
Your shallow bitch-fits can't kick it in my deep end
Think of existence and what it means to cease it
You drink through the week to repeat it through the weekend
God bless substance otherwise we couldn't be friends
Music a platform
My thought can descend
A rotten reason
I won't stop so pretend.