Luyện nghe bài hát Trite

[Sage

i'm identity crises.
"no not." "yes we are."
i'm identity crises.
"no not." "yes we are."

i don't have a feeling that been felt, feeling on my felt tip,
my hand...revealing what i've dealt with.
and how i'm dealing. cut the deck. evenly distribute the
of shit during our disputes on weekends.
we can sing along to other's song, right?
even if the is wrong, right?
make sure you don't bring the wrong mike,
'cause i don't about meeting a boyfriend we can all like (nah!).
this song is trite, hope ya like it.
could've substituted name with the title but i decided that i'd keep it private.
violent dream sequences just endless.
i can see myself a heated entrance
to your workplace with a on my face.
and a in my cheek. and a gun in my reach.
sneaking photos of myself under the seats of your co-workers,
putting a knife to your throat and screaming out "i hurt her!"
like, "let her go!"
and i'm like, "let her grow!"
prisoners listen to this. their rational side was out on a furlough.
i like turbo-nuclear affairs.
i a wife, a house, and two and a half mistresses to call when i'm not there.
then up the phone, and have my wife call up the phone company,
and ask the phone guy "why???"

and he's like, "ma'am...well, maybe you don't know how to talk."
and like, "damn...well...wanna fuck me?"
"yeah of course."

case closed. and he knows how to trace calls,
so i can't cranks saying, "i hate ya'll!"
i baseballs at my mirror, break walls a tear a-
nother out of my diary, throwing it from the eighth floor 'til i hear a
pin drop. pallbearers are in shock.
they i'm about to kill myself with a sling shot.
they rocks for ammunition,
steal my lifetime magazines and then my subscription.
their are just itching to scratch my clean records.
my rap sheets are infected, now i can't be
i just have to be elected! i ask for just a chance.
the back was "kid, you never did in the first place."

speaking of that, give me my ribbons back and anything that is mine.
waiting for a nice guy who can't it to the finish line.
when i die you won't recognize the picture buried the obituary,
but it'll say, "bye, i you very much."

i'm one for last words at departing time,
in a million years is when this star will shine.
say my fuckin' name. nope. say my name. nope.
you don't...know what to me so you don't.
you don't you call me.
you don't you don't me.