Lord Lazarus

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Yung Mallet

Alternative hip hop artist from Staten Island, New York City more »

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Writing for so long, forgot that I was living
Forgot that I was breathing, I'm merely existing
I think therefore I am, but all I'm good for is thinking
And all that time left in my mind just made me pompous and distant
Self important, sordid and so pretentious
Hate the fact that I took the pain and learned how to express it
I lost the will to kill myself, now I'm stuck with depression
Under all this self improvement lives much self resentment
There's a fine line between achievement and bereavement
And who's to tell the difference if you die before you see it
Sacrifice humanity, thought I already lost it
Rock bottom is death and I approach it way too often
Encroaching on my state of peace, all my regrets
Suddenly all this process was just made up in my head
A way to cope with the future, or present stress
Trauma's no longer an inflection point, just an event

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?
My body party's are wrong, should I just ignore it?
Is it concerning that I started scourging?
Well I deserve it so it's not important
It's all a distraction, that's why keep engorging
I'm pricking thorns while I pick the most gorgeous orchid
And once I find it I burn the rest of the forrest
Used to be suicidal now I'm dying from boredom

It's been 3 weeks since last infliction
Conflicting with my wish to be less pessimistic
Quite bluntly is mental illness, I've been afflicted
Life is hollow, I almost miss being Christian
My self awareness is a double edge
I see genuine growth but I'm unimpressed
Now I'm regressing, my values shifting, my brain's splitting
It's been 3 weeks since my last inflicted

Every single moan and coo's a eucophony
A parting of red seas, a blade with a prophecy
A spade digging holes, a painful monotony
My heart is a stone, making gold's my philosophy
This space is an oddity where my pain's an economy
If I drop, cold, quiet, could I savor the quality off a moment of peace
A release from my self
A release from the world
Self sabotaging ecology

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?
My body party's are wrong, should I just ignore it?
Is it concerning that I started scourging?
Well I deserve it so it's not important
It's all a distraction, that's why keep engorging
I'm pricking thorns while I pick the most gorgeous orchid
And once I find it I burn the rest of the forrest
Used to be suicidal now I'm dying from boredom

Writhing for so long, forgot that I was living
Forgot that I was breathing, I'm merely persisting
I think therefore I am but if I find a way to cope that stops all my thinking, I'd be happy just subsisting
Several substances and toxic optimism
Better than dreaded edges cause I'm thinking bout my past again
Self hate is hazardous, death rarely glamorous
Kill myself then come back Lord Lazarus

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?
Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?
Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?
Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?

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