Thought I should share something from the man they call Sole, from a project called Anticon.  He’s been the one where I would rather read his words than listen to them through speakers.  This is a piece that always stood out for me in the written form so I wanted to let other people experience it.  You can find all the lyrics here

My phone rang, I converse with the busy signal
Why can’t they let me die in pieces?
I don’t want any more food or condolences, let my people go
Burn off this useless flesh and make meals of my pestilence
Lessons are my tourniquets
maybe I’ve seen too much and not had enough
Either way, this is my last entry forever
Please don’t let my children read this

Sometimes I imagine myself as a loss
The leftover remains of a cast-away god
If I’m homeless, there’s no Earth
Someday I’ll be famous, and you can put that on my birth
My word is worth the demons that raped my being childhood, didn’t happen
I was made as this, my walking prison
Guarded by my life on a limb, mood swings
Enjoying my whim, take it for what it seems and much more
Must find maker, how am I? and who did I?
And how did I wake up on this bench covered in mud?

I’ve forgotten why I write these things down
Even as I write this
I’m realizing how useless it is to put ideas to words
water to wine, stupidity and valor
The streetlights I pray to and the gutters I fish in
My wife is no longer good at sex, her body doesn’t speak to me
and I’m getting sick of her attitude
There’s other fish in the sea
and I haven’t stopped breathing for three days
I hope everything is alright