Late Nights

Kid VictoryKid Victory 

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Kid Victory

Kid Victory is a musical with the story by John Kander and Greg Pierce, and music by John Kander, book and lyrics by Greg Pierce, co-produced by Vineyard Theatre and Signature Theatre. more »

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(All right, hold up, give me second)
(Okay, I'm ready)
Late nights are the worst of times
That's when I contemplate my worth and I often can't sleep
So I'm looking at my term in life
I'm burning might trying to calm this curse of mine
Emerging frights settled in a squirming mind
And I swear I'm finna change, but I'm swerving right
And the more that I'm putting in the effort, all I see are networks crash in a surge of light
And I'm sick of all the rhetoric spouting in repetition
And holding up the deficits crowding the depositions
Bloody man-made model of loneliness watching the hole deepen
Praying I'm changing my definition
Cause, is fucking hollow what I'm meant to be?
I pretend to be better than this mess of me
Cause inside, there's a man who's regressing
He can barely speak; All he wants is a pen to bleed
And it's pressing me mentally like the memories of the times
When I thought I had a team, but they always were neglecting me
I felt meek; They could never spare the breath for me
How did it speak to the rest of me?
It's not good, mixing doubt deeper into the recipe
That's why my chemistry is fucked up
And I'm feeling undone, wishing I could bloody rest in peace
And I'm so
Stuck in my head
Clung to my stress
(And it kills me, dead
Yes, it kills me)
Fingers gripping at the parallels
As I spiral out, riding on the carousel
Clutching my sense until it's slipping away again
Again and again, is this over yet?
I'm burnt out, not a motherfucking smolder left
And I'm looking at it so perplexed, in slow descent through nightmares
Sinking till my hopes defect
And I've got no defense for ghosts of them
Tried to put them in a pen but then they bloody broke the fence
We're on deck and the breadth's looking so immense
It's overwhelming trying to label foes and friends
And I'm triggered but I'm not wicked
Dr. Jekyll playing gentle and he's not winning
So then enter Mr. Hyde with a mission in his mind and the friction in his eyes
Got my thoughts slipping
And I'm wishing for a text saying someone wants to check in
Swimming in the stress ever since I saw it crept in
Dylan's getting vexed till I'm closer to a vestige
Fixing for my bed, I've been feeling fucking restless
Questions crowding my brain
Like "When I'm sober, am I ever really seeing straight?"
Or "When I spiral, why does no one ever relate?"
"Why did my best friend bail when I was ready to break?"
You left your "bro" disheartened (shit...)
I know I'm hyper-emotional and the quotient will bury me in the darkness
I've been spilling my heart, been looking for some catharsis
Trying to fill it up cause Justin left me starving
Damn, look at my back
Grab the handle, take a pull and get your knives back
One for every single person I thought I had on my team
When they really only sought to make the time pass, f*ck 'em
And lately, I'm tossing and turning in bed
With my thoughts on the hurt in my chest and the jerk in my head
Stuck in my head
Clung to my stress
(And it kills me, dead
Yes, it kills me)
Fingers gripping at the parallels
As I spiral out, riding on the carousel
Clutching my sense until it's slipping away again
Until it's slipping away again

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