Nothing to Explain (Strange and Loud)

It doesn’t ask permission It doesn’t play it safe It crawled up from the chaos To challenge what they shape They want a reason, want it clean Want it pretty, want it seen But I make messes, not machines I dream in cuts and crooked seams I tear the frame, I bend the rules I learned creation in no school I make to rupture, not to please Art like weeds that crack concrete It's not for sale It’s not refined It’s not a product You can buy It’s something buried, something wild It’s everything they can’t describe I make it real I make it strange I make it LOUD With nothing to explain With nothing to explain You say it’s nonsense, say it’s crude But I was never making this for you It’s instinct, pulse, unfiltered flame A primal mark without a game A scrawl across your sterile wall A mirror warped to break the fall Of every rule they tried to teach A paint-soaked howl just out of reach It’s not for sale It’s not refined It’s not a product You can buy It’s something buried, something wild It’s everything they can’t describe I make it real I make it strange I make it LOUD With nothing to explain What is art but provocation? What is beauty but mutation? No permission, no defense No meaning that I must dispense It’s not for sale It’s not polite It doesn’t care If it ignites A burning thing you can’t contain That screams and howls through every vein I make it real I make it strange I make it MINE— With nothing to explain!