© 2019 Marley Starskey Butler                                                                             naplewproductions@gmail.com

  • Facebook Classic
  • Twitter Classic
  • YouTube App Icon
  • Instagram Social Icon

Marley Butler & Aokid

Enough

 

Released 03 June 2015 
Vocals & Lyrics by Marley Starskey Butler
Instrumental by Aokid

WhatsApp Message by Mim Henna

 

Vocals | Engineered, and Mixed by Marley Starskey Butler in The Porage Factory

Instrumental Mixed by Aokid

 

Nobody’s perfect. 
We spin around mistakes then in a fake we resurface 
and hesitate when were nervous, 
and the curse is 
underneath the verses. 
the things that don’t get said 
when renewed life emerges. 
Things like the demons 
that live inside of you 
won’t lose sight of purpose 
even though you've found your view. 
And you are on your own, 
even in a crowd full people, 
all alone thinking that one day you would be equal. 
Waiting for your sequel 
but it never comes 
you succumb to the worlds stage 
even though it numbs. 
And at this age 
you can’t express it through rage, 
you would rather sit in your cage 
and make it beautiful 
then forget about what he says or she says 
because who are they to judge? 
their words are only words and you are ineffable as such. 
You rush into the corner of your mind 
self-expressing all time 
effervescing in decline 
life lessons redefined. 
But before you let that sink in 
remember I was blinking 
at night instead of sleeping 
I was sinking and augmented, 
state of mind rented, 
to find temporary signs that’s amor scented. 
Was I more accepted then? 
before a pen became the shape of a friend. 
In vain I would like to defend 
the lane inside the pretend. 
The mind speaks for itself, 
a kind of leak for the wealth 
of blind leeches in stealth 
as signs reach for your health. 
When who you are is who you will never be. 
A declining star is who you are meant to be. 
Nevermind I’m far from aligning mentally, 
when you are still here sitting next to me. 
Making it clear that dysfunctional people attract. 
It’s feeble in fact the game we both try to enact. 
A spurious fact that pulling wool over our eyes, 
We lie to ourselves 
when really we love in disguise. 
Then realise that we are clearly in denial, 
our spirits in a pile on the floor 
and we are sore from the bile 
we create when together in a state 
of depression the expression is the opposite, 
an adolescent composite. 
I heard we're absurd 
from the voices in my head 
but instead we choose to ignore the core of that notion 
so emotion overtakes, 
the choices I should make, 
forcing the mistake with my foot above the break. 
We accelerate further. 
The voice becomes a murmur then silence. 
A magnetic violence, 
two poles together in loopholes 
endeavouring new woes 
and severing mute souls 
it’s never been too cold for us. 
I'm writing these letters to discuss 
issues that have now formed dust, 
I was never in a rush 
I was revelling in everything but love. 
Voice whispering again.