Hello,
Here's a google drive link to my song, One Slip.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kCeciigvoSqMILOMeh9Hyw5JvQOhRpuJ/view?usp=sharing
One slip
One slip of the tongue
And you’re ultimately too conversational
One tip
I dip and I run
Cause you don’t know when to stop
Too cold
Too bold, and you scare me
Your pointed stare and your gaze
Too bold
I’m told if you dare me
And I don’t know when to stop
I don’t know when to stop
It’s a matter of balance
It’s communication through the eyes
And while I lack balance,
Yours bore into my forehead
It’s a matter of the shades you wear
And the mask I try to stick on
I can’t see what you’re thinking under there
There’s a burning in my forehead
And I know logically it isn’t my fault
That you could never see the world
The way I do
But still, could it still be my fault
If I’m the only one who knows it,
Does that make it true?
One slip
One slip of the tongue
And you’re too conversational for me
One flip
I trip when I run
Cause you don’t know when to stop
One fall
When you call up the stairs
It can crush my identity
One call
When I’m caught unawares
And my senses all just stop
And my senses all just stop
It’s a matter of knowing
How much I need to read you
From your mouth, a river flowing
Will decimate my village
It’s a matter of creation
Of the self I choose to live with
Never knowing my relation
To my mind or the others in the village
To the friends that I had as a kid,
To the friends that I have now,
Did you ever look at me as a robot,
Or was I only a Vincent somehow?
And my fixation on the top of your head,
Was that apathy or weakness of self?
Was my little fantasy world I lived in on the side
A reason to delve into the
Unexplained impulses and the
Fumbling and tumbling of words?
And how I dream to scream at every street evangelist
And peck out their eyes with an army of birds
Could it be anger? Could it be hate?
Could it be love or over-sympathy?
It’s a spectrum in the scripts I create
And the only one who sees it is me
I feel that it could be my fault
That I could never see the world
The same as you
And no, logically it isn’t my fault
But if that’s what I tell myself,
Does that make it true?
One slip
One slip of the tongue
And you’re ultimately too conversational
One tip
I dip and I run
Cause you don’t know when to stop
Too cold
Too bold, and you scare me
Your pointed stare and your gaze
Too bold
I’m told if you dare me
And I don’t know when to stop
I don’t know when to stop
I don’t know when to stop