HipHop Lyrics:
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[Sage Francis]
chorus
pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up...
now i can't even think back, self-induced amnesia has made its impact.
mental health produced at leisure was frayed once it was intact.
in fact, i voluntarily refuse to reminisce.
if i could choose any wish, i'd lose my genesis,
and prove to my nemesis that i don't need memory lane on my way home.
but i got lost and i needed a pay phone,
because i was in an unsafe zone, inside of a place unknown,
where unfamiliar faces roam, and it's so strange.
i've got no change, i could've sworn that i did when i left.
my breath gets heavy with every lie and theft.
i looked right and left, then i called people at my home collect
to tell them, "things changed," but they just won't accept.
i'm out of range, with no respect. every time i asked for directions,
all i got was dead air, cut lines, and bad connections.
people who would help changed their number to unlisted.
411 info left me unassisted. wickedly twisted
incidents. is it coincidence? i choose to think so.
deep in thought, my eyes blink slow, pictures appear like slide shows.
my mind knows each and every minute detail.
total recall is leaving me pale,
sick to my stomach, nautious, forces of nature bring my homing instinct.
its stink is so distinct, now let me think a minute.
this is the much traveled trail from my past,
now an unbeaten path, unfunny memories are now making me laugh.
chorus
haaaaaa! the flashbacks of my past acts are numerous.
since out the uterus, earth encounters ain't been that humorous.
heheheheh, my laugh lines have been faked for the last time.
i'm past my prime, climaxing again is a task of mine.
i'm homeward bound. break out the map and atlas,
when i ask gas station attendants, they just act pissed.
i'm black listed, for not staying true to white lies.
i fight guys in darkness, heartless, until the night dies.
then i shed some light on what's the matter.
reflections in the looking glass self scatter when the hard stares make it shatter.
seven years bad luck? time's irrelevant.
i'm searching for signs of intelligent minds, but find the element,
which blinds what the hell i think. now i'm thinking,
"what time is it?" i see the 12:00 blinking.
check the position of the sun to see there is none.
i figure there's an eclipse, so i look away to save my wisdom.
the solar system left me stranded in a universe
where i do reverse psychology, apologies are made through my verse.
ain't nothing to do but curse when i'm frustrated.
making people disgusted, plus, i'm mistrusted and hated.
that's an understatement, but who really cares about my failure years?
i'm on an expedition, following my trail of tears,
from when i cried, but it dried up and vaporized.
i played your game, so where's my consalation prize? i'm taking lies
from faking guys and gals who want to be my pals and peers.
at this here pace, it'll take me a thousand years
to find my way back, encompassing what they lack.
it cost me most of my life, but still i'm thinking about a payback.
decapitated, i lost my head, and fear is activated.
i'm in a fog, my blood, sweat, and tears evaporated.
i back track to find my lost sense of direction.
stop, look, and listen before i cross the intersection.
there's much construction. i'm signaled with morse-code
to take a detour. somehow i end up on an off-road.
i squint my eyes, trying to find some street signs.
i can only read strong thoughts, these people got weak minds.
trapped in a desert, that to me, looks like a sandbox
with damn narcs, hold up, son, i'm noticing some landmarks.
i rack my brain, knowing that i can't attack in vane.
upon return i promised myself not to act the same,
but every so often my selective screen memory will be my enemy.
metamorphasize and say, "remember me?"
getting me petro, wish i could kill the retro,
but heck no, too much of my past, i just can't let go.
i'm just a stone's throw away from my home turf, which really is the whole earth,
but claims like that got no worth.
and then it hits me, the reason why i'm dizzy
is because i've been traveling in circles keeping myself busy.
(where is he?)
chorus
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