Sweet Truth

Give me something so sweet I can almost taste it I could never fake something so real Give me something so sweet that it's almost tasteless I could never get high off of love Candy's all I need so hide that s for me Self-diagnosis please don't question it Take out borderlines now that's an order Candy's all I need so hide that s for me How do we measure illness in a society that's already ill Ruminations I succumb to on another slump plus I'm getting numb to all the f I gave just to be someone I'm not Better yet something they want but to be blunt F that motherf up drown that motherf down Pathologizing the religious other just to keep your crown Made of sanctimonious sapphires high on saccharine Sacrilegious hegemony look that s up if you nah mean Still believe we make our own disasters yeah I do not f with the master narrative of yours Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed What makes your god any less made up than his Still believe we make our own disasters yeah I do not f with the master narrative of yours Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed What makes your god any less made up than his Give me something so sweet I can almost taste it I could never fake something so real Give me something so sweet that it's almost tasteless I could never get high off of love Candy's all I need so hide that s for me Self-diagnosis please don't question it Take out borderlines now that's an order Candy's all I need so hide that s for me Normativity has become the norm does this make me normal Even if we have these misgivings in common To point out the false dichotomy of right and wrong Good and bad me and you we exist in a vacuum Segregated by white supremacy they buy my way to heaven Indulgences we once enjoyed remnants of what's forgiven Privileged images of silence perpetuating violence I guess Life is what you make of it I ain't making any sense am I Still believe we make our own disasters yeah I do not f with the master narrative of yours Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed What makes your god any less made up than his Still believe we make our own disasters yeah I do not f with the master narrative of yours Flipping pages through pedagogy of the oppressed What makes your god any less made up than his