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lyrics

I close my eyes to drift back and everything’s in black and white
and enmity of after life is lurking’ through my apprehensions
no more than an adolescent covered in muddy stains
with vision covered gray, no passion or effervescence
and on my shoulders I carry a bag that sags/ all of its made of rags
and it hangs because I carry boulders composed of woes
and guilt that I can’t shoulder and I loaf because I lack impulse to hope and I can’t see the hills
or what’s in front or back, I’m wearing’ shades, but as a mask
cause in fact I squint but all I see is black
I feel my way with a stick that I call my gut with friends
I tell I’m free as a front, if I was blunt, I would tell em’ I felt lost without a map
crossing along streets, struck by a sun’s radiant gaze
that I can’t see but I feel the heat
while stress tied my chest like shoe strings I medicated with sex
and predicated my life on thinking, I would have to lean on me then
Someone I couldn’t figure, figured He’d find me. . .

His beams seemed to fray in, a dream like state
when the heat from his crux and the flux of him came in
the leaves on the trees and the sky started changing
and these scales on my eyes fell to die on the pavement
I never knew it looked like this
back straight, somebody came and took my guilt — that weight
the stones on my back made a path for his hill
dull turned bright, and that loaf turned to life
on a flight path to slice parasites and be still
Life—going from black and white 
to shades that catapult you towards the advocate!
if you’ve ever had these glasses on and can’t imagine life 
not seeing for the first time everyday . . .

then you know how I feel

credits

from Light Rooms / Dark Halls, released July 22, 2014
Prod. Wes Pendleton

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Ant Coughlin Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

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