Same Storm, Different Skies (feat. ⟣ 𝓗𝔂ρη๏†เ¢ †๏ηเ¢ ⟢)

alternative hip-hop, emo rap, dark pop rap

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This song was created in collaboration with the incredibly talented artist ⟣ 𝓗𝔂ρη๏†เ¢ †๏ηเ¢ ⟢; @hypnotictonic

It was his idea for the theme and the music; I just added a few of my own words.
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No, no, no...
I write it, regret it, put it on paper, then shred it.
I say it, then hate it, do it, debate it.
It's fucking devastating, painfully pathetic,
manic and frantic when it's nothing but panic.
Like being locked in the attic, with a mind that's erratic,
every thought automatic, every ending dramatic.
I can turn a good night into something tragic.
Take a little bit of silence, make the shit cinematic.
Got a million bad habits, every one automatic.
Got a heart that wants peace, and a brain that won't have it.

Maybe I'm broken, maybe I'm not.
Maybe I'm just so damn tired of fighting my thoughts.

Every little thing turns into something.
Every little spark becomes a flame.
I know I'm probably overthinking,
but that don't stop my brain.
Pulling at the thread till the whole damn thing comes apart.
Trying to solve every mystery between my head and my heart.

I've watched you read the weather
like the whole sky's gonna break.
The clouds I'd call a Tuesday,
you call a storm to take.
You draft the ending early,
ink still wet on page one —
mourning the whole goodbye
before it's even begun.
I keep saying they're just clouds,
they drift, they thin, they clear.
But you've already built the ark
for a flood that isn't here.

Maybe that's the difference, maybe that's the game.
You see passing clouds, I see incoming rain.
You call it overthinking, I call it staying safe.
I've seen good things disappear without a trace.
Maybe I'm exhausted from carrying old mistakes.
Maybe every closed door feels one heartbreak away.
Maybe every warning sign lives rent-free in my head.
Maybe I'm still fighting shit that should've died instead.
Maybe every time I get close, I start looking for cracks.
Like if I find them first, it won't hurt as bad.

You think I never see the rain.
You think I just don't feel it.
I clock every cloud you do —
I just learned to swallow it.
Somebody's gotta be the calm one,
hold the room when you can't.
So I filed my cracks to nothing
and called it being your safe hand.
You look for the break to get ahead of it.
I hide mine so you don't have to know.
Same fear, two different exits —
yours screams, mine doesn't show.

So no, I'm not your steady sky.
I'm just better at the act.
And maybe that's the part
neither of us has the nerve to crack.

2834/7500

This song was created in collaboration with the incredibly talented artist ⟣ 𝓗𝔂ρη๏†เ¢ †๏ηเ¢ ⟢; @hypnotictonic It was his idea for the theme and the music; I just added a few of my own words. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No, no, no... I write it, regret it, put it on paper, then shred it. I say it, then hate it, do it, debate it. It's fucking devastating, painfully pathetic, manic and frantic when it's nothing but panic. Like being locked in the attic, with a mind that's erratic, every thought automatic, every ending dramatic. I can turn a good night into something tragic. Take a little bit of silence, make the shit cinematic. Got a million bad habits, every one automatic. Got a heart that wants peace, and a brain that won't have it. Maybe I'm broken, maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just so damn tired of fighting my thoughts. Every little thing turns into something. Every little spark becomes a flame. I know I'm probably overthinking, but that don't stop my brain. Pulling at the thread till the whole damn thing comes apart. Trying to solve every mystery between my head and my heart. I've watched you read the weather like the whole sky's gonna break. The clouds I'd call a Tuesday, you call a storm to take. You draft the ending early, ink still wet on page one — mourning the whole goodbye before it's even begun. I keep saying they're just clouds, they drift, they thin, they clear. But you've already built the ark for a flood that isn't here. Maybe that's the difference, maybe that's the game. You see passing clouds, I see incoming rain. You call it overthinking, I call it staying safe. I've seen good things disappear without a trace. Maybe I'm exhausted from carrying old mistakes. Maybe every closed door feels one heartbreak away. Maybe every warning sign lives rent-free in my head. Maybe I'm still fighting shit that should've died instead. Maybe every time I get close, I start looking for cracks. Like if I find them first, it won't hurt as bad. You think I never see the rain. You think I just don't feel it. I clock every cloud you do — I just learned to swallow it. Somebody's gotta be the calm one, hold the room when you can't. So I filed my cracks to nothing and called it being your safe hand. You look for the break to get ahead of it. I hide mine so you don't have to know. Same fear, two different exits — yours screams, mine doesn't show. So no, I'm not your steady sky. I'm just better at the act. And maybe that's the part neither of us has the nerve to crack. Every little thing turns into something. Every little spark becomes a flame. I know I'm probably overthinking, but that don't stop my brain. Pulling at the thread till the whole damn thing comes apart. Trying to solve every mystery between my head and my heart.

0/500