Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Son


Interface


Niveau de difficulté


Accent



langue de l'interface

fr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Politique de cookies   |   Soutien   |   FAQ
1
s'inscrire / se connecter
Lyrkit

faire un don

5$

Lyrkit

faire un don

10$

Lyrkit

faire un don

20$

Lyrkit

Et/Ou soutenez-moi sur les réseaux sociaux. réseaux:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
atlas

autobiopic

 

autobiopic


And so I meander this hallway
And try not to step on the cracks in the floor
Don't think I know how to relax anymore
Everything's either passive or coarse
Either passing the course with the masses
Or passing the torch that they using to scorch all the fabric
Bask in the fourths on the staff
'Til the core notes collapse in the tracklists

And I watch 'em all fall to the floor, watch 'em shatter into pieces
Always knew I didn't matter in the thesis
Didn't ask much, never tried to paint on my mirror
To make my own face any clearer
But things that used to be compliments
Feel like insults now
Things that used to be compliments
Feel like insults now

I'll walk a million miles away
'Til my insoles turn into dust
Don't want my kinfolk hurting as much as I did
When I first learned to burden this rut
Speak like an arcade cabinet with arcane sadness
Lost in a pac-man maze where the ghosts are never blue
And the weather, too
It's all dark and dismal 'til a better mood

See, I lost my mind in a health potion
They all want mine once the wealth goes in
Mind so bright, sense of self so dim
'Cause I hid my old ways in the trunk
But things that used to be compliments
Feel like insults now
Things that used to be compliments
Feel like insults now

And if all goes according to plan
I'll be scoring my autobiopic
Don't let 'em look up to me as a prophet
Don't let 'em philosiphize on the topic

And if all goes according to plan
When I'm scoring my autobiopic
I won't let 'em tell you the comedy's cosmic
You don't need a punchline to be a bit honest
With me

fait

Avez-vous ajouté tous les mots inconnus de cette chanson ?