there's always someone who will pay for that banter, baby

with tooth paste on my face,
I lose verses in my head,
coming off from under
mumbling one sheets.

making the forest, oh yeah,
I wanted my time with you to be great,
while all the rest of the minutes boiled down.

don't make sense of this,
because it doesn't make sense,
and I put you up on shoulders,
then packed it up
and went west.

I am happy of your sound,
the keys, the traps, the breeze bowing its head.
no matter how wrong I am,
try to let me back in,
buried by Tuesday just to create
something new, too.

there was nothing,
but there was everything,
and the song went a little something like this...