See night is the time I place self-wrought wooden dowels between street signs so as to build thought-ladders

Elegy - Young Blood Brass Band

I'm sorry is easy to say when you've got arms to find solace in and lips to get drunk on
I remain ink-stained, disdain, ingraine, are you feeling entertained?
I used to wonder what the pain was like when my father's heart exploded
common art sold it but this won't settle for silence now I'm volatile with self-violence
trust me - even patience wouldn't try this venerable i sense since I found a beat left dying on the street
and took her home to penstitch the bleeding 
rhythm, she'd been selling ism and we shared stories of correlating detonated coronaries
It's beyond scary but fear is the little death and I'm no maud'ib
you colnized my arrakis, helpless melange addict with the right tactic and the wrong practice
faulty emotional still suit left me dehydrated and rapless
let the desert have me

I didn't know it was the last kiss, you never told me it was the last kiss, you never told me shit

So now you're gone, I'll play the solo solar soldier that's internally ignited
so now where's your coal, to hell in an old soul
it cannot burn like this, trial by nostalgia like it's all love,
all over all just I guess I'm all folding because god knows I can't deal holding sold trust, 
thought I was quicksilver but his gold rush beat my cold crush into the promised land
I took a last stand before that promise banned
I tried to show promise jazz but he wandered past my thumb and i hitched a ride alone to strife's home
a microphone, a pen and bad company to keep 
some things seem to seep out your pores, imbedded too deep to be indebted to speak
I'll be better next week in the bed where you freak
I'm dead as text, believe me it's not the sex
no pity please, no patronizing subtlety suffering me
no laughing irony publicly comedy tragically badgering my process of not mastering loss yet
(this) game set (to) match (light)
at least give me enough cash to get back, right?
airport sadness, indeed, cause i train mc's subways of emitting varbal rays

But this shit got me busted like mass transience or tarnscendence
we all gotta transcend, gotta transcend

Better a brother or father? at least you kept it in the family
and I shouldn't have assumed that as moons rise only astute eyes see my mindscape's tenements bathed in light 
project-laden fright 
see night is the time I place self-wrought wooden dowels between street signs so as to build thought-ladders 
The rungs, my lungs exhale into you - admittedly co-dependent
what makes it worse are the love locks i placed in front of the gateway
with each day i add a level but your skeleton key sees through it all with those three words
So why keep building? if distance is the answer I can fake and call it ascension
a.k.a not giving attention to how I really feel and I don't even know what that rung is
my greatest regret was not making this ladder/letter for two, 

I am what I write and I wrote this all about you
I'm all about you, I'm all about you