album cover
Paces
5
Pop
Paces è stato pubblicato il 11 giugno 2021 da LNDN Row Records come parte dell'album The Black Satin Sessions
album cover
Data di uscita11 giugno 2021
EtichettaLNDN Row Records
LanguageEnglish
Melodicità
Acousticità
Valence
Ballabilità
Energia
BPM139

Video musicale

Video musicale

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS
London Beck
London Beck
Electric Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robert Taylor IV
Robert Taylor IV
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
London Beck
London Beck
Producer
Rod Wallace
Rod Wallace
Producer

Testi

Not on my pride. I pushed to the side.
Backpacking it light, I’m biding my time.
To love more in life, to live like I’ve died.
Never enough, the blood parasite.
Lately wading through the pressure.
Maybe pain is for my pleasure.
Masochism in my leisure.
There’s no balance in it all.
Mindless auto-action pilot.
Need a diet from the mundane.
No matter what I do. Always same news.
Overpaid dues. Need something new.
Pushing past my paces.
Riding on the limit. Falling deep into my mind.
Free falling through weightless.
Stretching out my patience. Steady pushing through the time.
Shadows taking control.
My illusions, legion. Reasons, never letting go.
Free falling through weightless.
Stretching out my patience. Steady pushing through the time.
Let go. I know I need to let it go.
Addicted to the control. A bag of bricks, I keep them real close.
I must like feed the demons. They snicker their teeth at my fleshed wounds.
Looking for a safe space I can slip off to.
Why I let the monsters in my mental room?
I just need to say enough.
What I build today, it’s enough.
Walked 1000 miles, not done.
Walked 1000 miles, not done.
Owe it to my heart to wise up.
Owe it to my mind, I’m fed up.
Just say I’m enough, cause’ my life got a higher price tag than you sell.
Mayweather on Greg, got the hammer tryna TKO the devil, ah.
Walked 1000 miles through the valley of the shallows, swing gallows.
Imma spiral down a black hole, I know,
Only I know what I can hold. Cargo.
Lemme unload like a dump truck, sideshow.
Tightrope, seesaw my transgressions.
Open doors to all the lessons.
Owe it to the me that swallows regrets.
Not to the streets that’s where I stay losing attention.
Airtight, no dissection.
No lift if no trust.
If it’s not a lift, it’s the dust.
Pushing past my paces.
Written by: Robert Taylor IV
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