Warholian Austerity

Painting The Sky is Now Streaming on all Music Platforms
https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/micruiz/painting-the-sky

Produced By Mic Ruiz

Streaming Platforms + NFTS
https://linktr.ee/officialmicruiz

Social Media
Instagram- (Link Below)
https://www.instagram.com/officialmic...
Twitter-(Link Below)
https://www.twitter.com/officialmicruiz
Twitch
https://www.twitch.tv/officialmicruiz
Mic Ruiz Discord Server
https://discord.gg/RxYukHnn

Reach Email Below for all Business Inquires
info@micruiz.com

This song is Brought to you by ©WorldWideMic Entertainment

Painting The Sky

Chillax In Blue

An Ordinary Day Whit the Roch

Sound Of Freedom

Everything You Wanted

Coming soon! We pretend to be fine.
There's a fire in the wastelands. What's mine?
Waste of time.
There's a fire.
We Survive.

There's a crack in the side of the farm.
You would think that they'd run, but they stay.
Waste the light.
Avoid the night.
Stay alive. 

There's a river that's flowing with gold.
That you get, when you're good, if you're old.
Waste of life.
Taste the Night.
Stoke the fire.

All of her maybes, mistaken for definitelys.
All you can do is move on.
All of your sure things, replaced now with possiblys.
You've got no crutch to lean on.

All of his don't knows, revealed to be so lows 
That you didn't see where they came from.
All of the can does, are hollow lists of to does.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

There's a message we sent to the sky.
Imagine that won't be getting too far.
Trip the wire.
To the stars.
To the stars.

There's a man on the moon, and he's heating a Spoon.
As he looks sadly down on the earth.
There's a cow.
What's that now?
Holy cow.

Wee Willie runs through the town.
Crying loud as he seeks them all out.
Get to bed.
In your head.
Go to bed.

All you've got left are some rust, cans of peaches.
A pile of old vizzes and porn.
A fray bentos pie and your rosy complexion.
There's no one left you rely on. 

A bust of Beethoven, a packet of suet.
A commemorative plate, a Princess Di coin.
An overfilled ashtray, a battered red jumper.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

All of her maybes, mistaken for definitelys.
All you can do is move on.
All of your sure things, replaced now with possiblys.
You've got no crutch to lean on.

All of his don't knows, revealed to be so lows 
That you didn't see where they came from.
All of the can does, are hollow lists of to does.
Interstellar. Toodle-oo. Now I'm gone.

Interstellar... Toodle-oo

We all have those rough days, and this song is meant to help you through it.

White Hot Mess (Prod. by PopKult)

I never thought I'd say it
Like a brick through our window
That let our house start shaking

I didn't think I had it in me
To break what I've known
And let these walls be forsaken

But I'm not sure I ever knew you
Like you needed me to
But I swear I could taste it

I tried my best to ignore it
But the seed it took root
And shed the fruit that's now wasted

Why did I waste my time
Falling down hills to climb?
All who knew me saw right through me
What did I hear you say
This is a hollow play?
Not much to doubt while bleeding out

Sometimes I cannot see me
So I'll pull a sheet over
To give me some shape now

I hope I'll be able to find me
In the void it creates
There's a beauty in the breakdown

Who are you to say
I'm better off to stay
What don't kill me, might just heal me
What did I hear you say
This is a hollow play?
Not much to doubt while bleeding out

I'm holding out for hope now
That when the bottom drops out
They'll be something to catch me

But sometimes it's nice to fall
At such great heights
You can see it all completely

There's not much to doubt
While bleeding out
There's not much to doubt
While bleeding out
There's not much to doubt
While bleeding out
There's not much to doubt
While bleeding out

Painting The Sky

Mic Ruiz

Recent comments

María J. Dávila

Related tracks