A pen's experience inside a motel room.
I came up with the idea for this song 7 years ago (in 2007) after hearing the song "I Gave You Power" by Nas. Clinical depression is characteristically difficult to describe. Imagine feeling your absolute lowest and not being able to express what you're going through. I hated feeling so alone, and wanted to give a voice to that inner turmoil and helplessness. Mostly, I just wanted others to understand. Seven years later, being able to finally finish this song brought a lot of relief and closure.
VERSE 1:
Spent a lotta days in a motel, I'm talkin' holidays,
All defaced, get bent outta shape whenever I’m misplaced
in phone books and bibles, next to digits and addresses
Always rest on desktops while guests rock padded mattresses
Fuckin' savages! What am I a masochist?
Did some time in Minneapolis in manufactured packages.
Sometimes on nights of vacancy, I make believe
that I can take the heat, play for keeps / Anything I
need to leave myself at bay while I wait impatiently
'til the room’s no longer taken / See no one, but outside
hear someone that’s fumbling with the brazen key.
Then blatantly he enters stumblin' toward the desk where I be
Snidely grinning while extending his arm feeling to find me
Then my mind “clicks on” and blinds me from the liquor beside me
While he’s downing gin and Hennessy, drowning in his memories
Violent kind of tendencies, seems that life ain’t never gave him
nothing but lemon trees. These enemies, got me
feanin’ for the motherfuckin' end of me. Wait – where’s he
sending me? Met this flat-chested loose leaf out by the
lobby pool. / She’s talkin’ ‘bout how “college ruled.”
In retrospect I’d tell myself to not be fooled.
Illiterate to his intentions, blinded by her nature / Had I
read between the lines, I could’ve saved her…way before his
actions passed the margin of acceptable behavior. / It still
beats me up inside the way she let him naively brush my
tip against her surface, then penetrate deeply. / Virgin
body polluted as he gave her my fluid. / Giving
birth to cursed words that remain deep-rooted.
VERSE 2:
Has it ever occurred you ain’t the first person on earth
to find yourself immersed in a world full of hurt
Hate to burst your bubble, you ain’t have it the worst now
Clearly you can’t hear me, still I gotta drop a verse
I’m more cursed for certain, see you don’t know what hurtin’ is
Your pain is only temporary, mine’s a life of permanence
Wite Out's like make up, only covers the marks
Underneath the scars are causin’ all these horrible
thoughts and wants and needs that leave me stressed
No need to question me if I seem depressed
Left to guess what I must deal with next
How the fuck am I supposed to amount to this?
In your hand, I’m a vegetable ‘cause your cowardice
Keeps me locked down, confound under house arrest
How I’m powerless, tightened grip of your fist flicking
Inscribing as I’m guided by your writhing wrist
VERSE 3:
To my wife and kids,
By now you’ve probably heard the worst yet y’all managed to live. Wish that I could’ve done the same but yo it is what it is. So it goes. Where one life ends, another begins. I hate ya have to see me like this: stricken with blindness, concerned only by how inconvenient my fight is. I suppose thinking suicide’s a victimless crime is kind of biased, but tragic shit’s been a reoccurring habit of mine since those nights I’d shout for silence, screaming in agony, holding my head, blaming my sinuses on migraines. Maybe my shyness is to blame for why I hide things. Isolated nature. Tidal wave behavior. And my mind is fixed on self-inflicted violence. I’m in danger.
Not at my finest behavior, you could say. Every day feeling more like a stranger. Just know that you’re in no way to blame for my condition. This was all my decision to no longer be living. Better than this life that all too often feels like fucking prison. Wishing it wasn’t too late. Pills pump through my system. I envision Madi’s cute face. Repetition’s second victim, questioning his due date. Expeditions left to piss, that lonely street that few take.
Now little Madison don’t need to know what’s happenin’. Just say I had an accident. Teach our daughter 'bout that place called heaven that her dad is in. When I’m gone, don’t mourn ‘cause I’ll be with you in the form of whatever makes you happy. Hell yeah, I’m with you even when you’re feeling crappy. Selfish act that I’ve committed, I’ll admit it. Sittin’ thinkin’ 'bout it now makes me feel wicked. Stricken with shame like a victim. What if others think I’m lame like a chicken? Shit, my state of mind before was packed up like a suitcase with certainty. But now it’s tied up like a fucking shoelace and hurting me. I think that I sh–