John Reuben - Bury This Verse Lyrics

They say the best art comes from an unhealthy placeSo this will be the last record that I ever makeAfraid to become the sad song you're listening to;Sweetheart when I die, please burn my journalsTried to outsmart my feelingsBut the heart's too revealingSpending more time covering up mistakes than learning from themProject your persona, control self awarenessWe want the truth until it's about usToo awkward for the mainstream, too blunt to be spiritualEvery word you write's under a microscopeHard to be free when the room closes inHard to write the hot shit with a frozen penSelf control is gonna hurt your potentialBefore it's out your lips, you're thinking censorshipIs it brilliance, destructive, or just obnoxious?Just another self absorbed artist being honestBu. Ry. ThisBury this verse deep inside the earthVerseDig it up in a thousand yearsIdeas for the sake of ideas lead to more ideasIs that the big idea? PontificateThink a man needs to find his placeSo stand there looking stupid with nothing to sayCause everybody's bored and over informedAnd everything that can be, has been exploitedThe world is smaller but none the wiser;Full of information without experience to apply itOn some King Solomon "it's all meaningless"Cause they don't build monuments for criticsNever take advice from miserable menEven the brightest minds prove inadequateArt for the quasi, song for the smart guyNew paradigm like we're the first ones to realizeThe world is ugly, critics need a darlingSay something jarring or tug on the heartstringsBu. Ry. ThisBury this verse deep inside the earthVerseDig it up in a thousand yearsConstantly distracted, killed by committeeKill creativity. Please stop talkingThe further we get, just a small fingerprintAlways been an old soul who believes music's a giftA way of life engrained in your DNAIf I don't put it in a verse it stays in the veinsGot a clean slate, staring at a blank page andI can be anything, let the words playForm and take shape, words hold weightTake the matter in my own handWatch my pen bendJournaling turning the present into memoriesWe can enjoy it now when it's historyThank God for giving us opportunitiesKeep it new to me like I'm soon to beFresh on the scene, wide eyed and greenForever young, growing old gracefullyBu. Ry. ThisBury this verse deep inside the earthVerseDig it up in a thousand years(Bury this. Bury this. Bury this. Bury this. Bury this VerseBury this. Bury this. Bury this. Bury this. Bury this VerseBury this. Bury this. Bury this. Bury this. Bury this VerseBury this. Bury this. Bury this.)