Poet Pilots

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Grace Chia

Grace Chia (born 1973) is a Singaporean writer, poet, journalist and editor. more »

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(Oh, learning)
I just want to hide in bed
And listen to hip-hop
Shut out all my world
Cause nothing hurts when my mics on
At least now, I only let my nibs bleed
I just want to hide in bed
And listen to hip-hop
Shut out all my world
Cause nothing hurts when my mics on
At least now, I only let my nibs bleed
(nibs bleed, nibs bleed, I only let my nibs bleed)

I do circles round my kitchen when I'm alone
Boil the kettle never wait for it to settle
Like my thoughts, stoned
Sick of speaking people only reading me by my tone
By my clothes, by the way they screening me on their phones
But I spent a long while offering up my thoughts
They like to sleep beneath my dreams
Peeking out my drawers
My weakness seems to be my kindness
Never close my doors
I really want to share my love
They always ask for more
And if you can't speak up
Then kid, you better write it down
They only want you to give up
So you go give em sound
And every verse you rehearse
Be assertive too
I know you're hurting too
But they gon' watch you make your moves
They always focused on how open you are
Whether it be how much you hide
Or how you accessories your scars
Told, don't overshare as if music ain't a way to pick my worries apart
This is my medicine, but you can call it art

I just want to be young dumb, let my waste be my remedy
The space don't fit the same when I was lost tomb travelling
Oh, guess I'm growing (Guess I'm learning control)
I just want to feel that sun when my nights extending time again
Run, run, run. Bring my ink empty to her knees again
Oh, a poet learning control (Guess I'm learning control)

I like to dig deep in places where my mind pretend
Defense mech that protect me when my kindness bent
Removed from all intrusions, the illusions that my vision send
Now I got to face em' up, rewrite my strings with them
Cause I don't want to see my generation die numb
Half these kids high on scripts, medicating their cup
Doctors giving pills out much more than they be taking blood
Now my friends addicted to a vice that they can't touch
We mistaking the escapes for an answer
I was lost and vacant rearranging my phantom
All the pain we're given got the media romancing
The median's corruption in a system that is scamming
So release your demons
Make peace with the reasons
That the creep, when you're steep
High up and your feening
Don't feed that greed
Give em love that you need
And find yourself in the art that you piece

I just want to be young dumb, let my waste be my remedy
The space don't fit the same when I was lost tomb travelling
Oh, guess I'm growing (Guess I'm learning control)
I just want to feel that sun when my nights extending time again
Run, run, run. Bring my ink empty to her knees again
Oh, a poet learning control (Guess I'm learning control)

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