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The Institute of Living

from Trapdoor by Defcee & Messiah Musik

/

lyrics

[HOOK]
This is the Institute of Living. Ribcage as a prison.
Smaller than my faith. Larger than my religion.
This is the Institute of Living. Paper as a prism.
A choir of medicine humming off-key in my system.
This is the Institute of Living. Giving up on what I’m missing.
A small difference between what I’ve saved and what I’m killing.
This is the Institute of Living. Got a clean bill of health,
and the most dangerous people tellin me I’m a danger to myself.

Attended church in the corner of a pool hall.
Words in my memoir from someone else’s blues song.
Coulda bounced off of that hard white like a cueball.
Pocketful of bass...still getting the groove wrong.
I’m the distance from wax-winged to crash-landed.
Talk spill like gunpowder out of a cracked cannon.
In a folding chair, throwing my head back, laughing,
watching columns snap round the bodies of collapsed Samsons.
Pills in a Dixie cup, spill em into my throat dry.
Imagination real as fuck. I can’t see its coastline.
Break it down to fix it up. Paint the world and watch the coat shine.
Dressed like a million bucks. The state paid for this bowtie.
It match hospital gowns how bowler hats fit elbows.
My own Prince Charming. Adjust glass slippers with velcro.
Tongue full of spikes. My mind is a railroad.
Lie and tell my mother I miss her in all my mail home.

[HOOK]

credits

from Trapdoor, released November 23, 2021
(A. Levin, D. Zunikoff)

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