What's my problem?
Well, I want you to follow me down to the bottom,
Underneath the insane asylum,
Keep your wits about you while you got ‘em,
‘Cause your wits are first to go while you're problem-solving.
And my problem?
We glorify those even more when they..
My opinion, our culture can treat a loss,
Like it’s a win and right before we turn on them,
We give them the highest of praise,
And hang their banner from a ceiling,
Communicating, further engraving,
An earlier grave is an optional way.
Neon gravestones try to call for my bones.
What's my problem?
Don't get it twisted.
It's with the people we praise who may have assisted,
I could use the streams and extra conversations,
I could give up, and boost up my reputation,
I could go out with a bang, they would know my name,
They would host and post a celebration.
My opinion will not be lenient,
My opinion, it's real convenient,
Our words are loud, but now I'm talking action,
We don't get enough love? Well, they get a fraction.
They say "How could he go if he's got everything?"
I'll mourn for a kid, but won't cry for a king.
Promise me this,
If I lose to myself,
You won’t mourn a day,
And you'll move onto someone else.
But they won’t get them. No they won’t get them.
Don’t get me wrong, the rise in awareness,
Is beating a stigma that no longer scares us,
But for sake of discussion, in spirit of fairness,
Could we give this some room for a new point of view?
And could it be true that some could be tempted,
To use this mistake as a form of aggression,
A form of succession, a form of a weapon,
Thinking “I’ll teach them,” well, I’m refusing the lesson,
It won’t resonate in our minds.
I’m not disrespecting what was left behind,
Just pleading that it does not get glorified,
Maybe we swap out what it is that we hold so high.
Find your grandparents or someone of age,
Pay some respects for the path that they paved,
To life they were dedicated.
Now that should be celebrated.