Unanswered Prayers Testo

  • Home
  • >
  • D
  • >
  • D-Sisive
  • >
  • Jonestown 3​.​The Dream Is Over (2012)
  • >
  • Unanswered Prayers

Testo Unanswered Prayers

Yo, Truman Capone, committed socialite
Suicide, publishing chapters of answered prayers
He tied his pals to the tracks and wrote about their uglies
Deformities and affairs
They appeared clean shaven of their beards
And Truman let them hang, ironic
His only defense was: I’m a writer, what did they expect?
Another sick closer to his death
My daddy was depressed when my mama died
He couldn’t take a step without falling
I helped him back on his moccasins and often cried
Fuck, I felt betrayed when my father died
Fuck, he needed her like I needed you
Fuck, I needed you like you needed booze
Fuck, no loaded gun nor a swinging noose
Committed slow suicide sippin juice
Depression and drugs, depression and drugs
The nereth medic sent me to a therapist
One year on a sofa, reliving the drama
The death of my parents, my sister drama
Then doctor Shields gave me Adavan
And I started feeling like I could stand again
And standing made me wanna rap again
Two records deep I was Jones
College radio once, Juno nominations
Polaris long list, much music rotation
Critical acclaim, blogs and articles
With not one dollar in my motherfuckin pocket
Often told me you’re only one hit away
But I feel like I’ve had about 5
Radio chose not to bite
It wasn’t meant to be but being slept on made no fuckin sense to me
I hear them say: if I reach one person
That’s worth more than a million in my safe
I respond shut the fuck up with your fairytale bullshit
Rich people say but I took it back when I saw a photo on Facebook
Of a fan with my lyric tatted on his skin
I was speechless, that’s forever
I may feel alone but I’m always with him
They tell me I helped him out the hell hole
And kept the blade from the wrist vein
When all I did was write a song in my basement apartment
Tryna kill the pain (Jones)
Maybe I’ll never have a number one record
Maybe I’ll never make the cover of Exclaim
Maybe I’ll never rock a soldout massy hall in front of you
Screaming my name
Maybe I’ll never rap in Paris
London, England, New York or Japan
Then again maybe I will
If I live to see tomorrow
Today I said in the New Jersey dinner
With all of you eating onion rings
Listening to a song on the jukebox
Don’t stop believing