Inside the Box

from dust. by Mikal kHill & Romero Shaw

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Stream of consciousness.


Born into a world of misunderstanding and resentment
begining was never as complicated as the way it was meant
it's the same tale
it gets told a thousand times
the truth behind a million kids putting together simple fuck you lines
behind a million crimes, a million good intentions
when i was doing good, never resorted to no foul shit
but nowadays things just get carried away
the nerdy kid you liked is now the one sneaking it out the back way
it is what it is, a lot of my friends caught up in shady shit
but can't deal with, misrepresentation that is all they get
i never claim to be a saint, deny the role as sinner
refuse to accept the role of loser when I see so many unjust winners
i look in my daughter's face i see my grandmother's eyes
when i look into my wifes, hear the one word: survive
whatever it takes. whatever it means to get from there to here
when i was younger the world seemed so fucking crystal clear
nowadays there's nothing left to feel
i never find the connections spinning off some old dusty reel to reel
the pigs squeal
the sheep all speak but say nothing
i spent my life in your face, never waste my time bluffing
but i guess that's sorta the message
can't win a losing battle
you are just another piece of meat shuffle beside the other cattle
hear the death rattle, it's shaking in the crib
never make it out , trapped in the box.
you can't even remove the lid.

burn the tapestry
fuck it. wrote my own epitaph
read it aloud to anyone that would listen
then summed up my feelings in a paragraph
the walking dead. the zombie missing his heart
driven by brain, you know i never miss the good part
i'm the kind of guy that waits for hte credits at the end of hte film
resenting the people around me until i realize that i've become them
die on a whim
but at least the whim was mine
fly into the clouds, but i'd never say i was driving blind
i know exactly what it is that moves me
exactly what i feel
exactly what the game is
wrote the terms, maybe a bad deal
scortched my name into this
burned my fate into the sky
complete unwillingness to meet you halfway to say goodbye.
a beam of light in the darkness that could never show the way
and a sword i kept swinging till there was no one left to hear what i had to say.
and i think i like it that way.


from dust., track released August 23, 2011
Vocals - Mikal kHill.
Produced by Romero Shaw.


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Mikal kHill North Carolina

I make sadcore minimalist doomrap.

Member of:
Two Weeks Notice.

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