Name: Singularity by Simp Fonikz
Duration: 2 min 2 s
Description: Your effort to remain what you are is what limits you.

Troubles

Quiet Contemplation (Metallic Rouge)

Your effort to remain what you are is what limits you.

Singularity

Ghosts

[v1]
Turning dreams into dust and falling out of love,
as i try to muster up 

the strength, the will to distill the potential that will fill my craze
to battle through the days. 
I am running through the haze of memories left astray.

Psyche about to break 
as these thoughts begin to fray.  

Who i am always complicates

the steps ahead. 
This head is filled with dread.
It's best not to fret,

but this mess will test 
the rest of my consciousness 

as I wreck the chance to correct my confidence. 

It's starting to look ominous 
as this despair becomes more prominent.

I wish life was more opulent,
but I'm left to deal with the consequence.

[hook]
The sentiment turns to sediment. 
Under pressure I can't form the sentences,
but my heart and skin are fossilized from the negligence. 

The sentiment turns to sediment. 
Under pressure I can't form the sentences,
but my heart and skin are fossilized from the negligence.


[v2]
Just a shell of what I could become.
I'm stuck in the shadow of who I was. 
Perpetually stuck inside a slump.
Gotta dig myself out of the mud.

Always retreat when push comes to shove.
Can't seem to seed a sense of love.
Release me to the demons above, 

because I can't seem to trust this journey. 

What is there to keep earning
when I'm progressing poorly?
Surely it's not too concerning to have to keep on learning. 
I have to discern these bridges I'm burning.

Inserting feelings of yearning for a spark 
to ignite my passions when I'm lost in the dark.

[hook]
The sentiment turns to sediment. 
Under pressure I can't form the sentences,
but my heart and skin are fossilized from the negligence.

The sentiment turns to sediment. 
Under pressure I can't form the sentences,
but my heart and skin are fossilized from the negligence.


[outro]
Cant make it out alive. 
I am losing sight 
from a brooding fight
through the looming night.

Can I illuminate the plight
as these demons are burning through my gripes?
Watching the situation getting more trite.
It's impossible to compromise. 

It's all useless.
Can I even do this?
This is all abusive 
I'm so clueless

It's not conducive to the memories along this road.
It's just my two cents that will be thrown. 




Fossilized

Moving like a criminal, like we're in spaces that are liminal.
The phases are never literal 

We are reaching a point that is critical.
Even if you don't need a visual, the vision is subliminal.

Completing the mission is integral to the intervals of the riddle. 

The moments are simple, cuz we gotta let them dribble 
some magic into the space of this fabric. 

Even if you've had it, there is no sense to the madness, 
but that's what makes dreams happen, 

just a tad bit.
Need to keep on blabbin.

I'm bad with the action,
but if this is a passion 

I gotta keep on passing every single goal,
every single road;
breaking out of every single mold.


Slipping through the cracks and I continue to crash 
into situation way too batshit.

What are these feelings I'm catching?
Want to love life, but i am anxious. 




Backrooms

Drifting like a cloud, 
head above the skies.
These thoughts always shroud  
every single plight. 

Coughing through the pain like their battle cries.
Amalgamize this soul, mercury is the goal.

There is more to antagonize.
Salting out these road 
Making way for this gold. 

The smell of putrid sulfur, means I'm the shit.
Spitting fire from a pit,
burning away matter that is indefinite.

The benefit to the end of this 
is the fact that i have to sift 

through every single grain sand from across the lands.
I do not understand the god damn plan.
 
do I compromise my balance at a chance to challenge the hand 

grasping on to the chalice?
Why do I bear pain from all this malice?

Do i stare at the palace made of glass 
as people throw stones from the back?



Icarus with wings of wax;
I am falling fast
into the depths of my past,
I am about to crash 

to my death from the ignorance not laid to rest.
I'm not ready to wrestle with the depth of this stress. 

Distress is all that is left 
although I am trying my best
not to lose my edge.

Cutting into the meat of the quest.
I am starving for the attention I never get. 

A few minutes of your time for these simple rhymes. 
It doesn't cost a single dime, you don't have to pay no mind...

Pitfalls and Pitstops

As I sift through the thoughts that drip
from this brain into the spaces of this quip,
I'm not equipped to sit and wait for the fog 
to dissipate into the days that slip.

The haze will make me trip;
contemplate a state I've missed;
Hate or remiss the way I have forsaken the bliss

I've once felt when I've mistaken the kiss of death 

with the stress that's misted over my head. 
I missed it, the feeling of dread,

but now I miss the feeling of moments that are fresh.
If everyday is a test, then I can't give it a rest.

I have to press onwards and converse with honor as I converge with a goner.




Sequences

So just this once, we can spend the night together, right?

Singularity

Simp Fonikz

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