Atmosphere, Horrorshow — Melancholaholic

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Текст Atmosphere, Horrorshow — Melancholaholic

Melancholaholic, yeah
I’m a melancholaholic, yeah

If you get down, you came to the right place
A safe space where you can’t go wrong
Pull up a chair, it’s my turn to share
This is where you and I belong, got my name tag on, like
Hi, my name’s Nick, I’m an addict
Been working on tryna kick the habit
And I can do it all by myself, no cry for help
Instead, I’ma set off my flare for the dramatic
What’s it gonna take?
How many more of these breakthroughs I gotta make?
How many more hours out the day do I gotta waste
Loving the taste of sour grapes? I mean
Must be some kind of mistake
Or maybe I just like it this way
I got so much self to be
If I could just get the help I need

If you fit the description, yeah
(Is the glass half full or half empty?)
Better fill your prescription, yeah
(I might drink it all down, don’t tempt me)
Spokesman for the brokenhearted
You don’t wanna get me started, no
And that’s why I stay so guarded
Tryna fight my addiction
I’m a melancholaholic, yeah
I’m a melancholaholic, yeah
Yeah I think I got a problem
And don’t know what else to call it
I’m a melanchola-melancholaholic

(Hi, my name is Shawn)
(Hi Shawn, do you have something you’d like to share today?)

Sometimes it kinda feels like
I’m in front of a broken mirror, I’m searching my face
Shovel through my dirt like I deserve some grace
Looking at my reflection, but my first reflex is
To try to turn away and get some personal space
How the hell’d we end up here?
I’m tryna raise a little hell but it’s been a rough year
I wanna tell you what I’ve felt if you’d lend that ear
I’m tryna hear that bell communicate that clear
But evidently I don’t know ya like I think I do
Cos I’m pre-assuming that you’d even let me speak to you
School of hotbox, never learned to keep my cool
The freakazoid that be avoiding all the peek-a-boo
Gotta jump back and excuse myself
From a momentary lack of existence
It doesn’t even make a difference
Why I keep coming up missing, man, listen

If you fit the description, yeah
(Is the glass half full or half empty?)
Better fill your prescription, yeah
(I might drink it all down, don’t tempt me)
Spokesman for the brokenhearted
You don’t wanna get me started, no
And that’s why I stay so guarded
Tryna fight my addiction
I’m a melancholaholic, yeah
I’m a melancholaholic, yeah
Yeah I think I got a problem
And don’t know what else to call it
I’m a melanchola-melancholaholic