Part of the artist’s job is to make the commonplace singular, to project a different interpretation onto the conventional.
“Went to shoot, I’m like, “What that gonna do?
That bullet’s for you, trust, you don’t want to see her face”
The monsters ate
I’m a hyena, so it’s nothing to wait
Played the back, log in the fire crack
Shadows dance about the cave
They gave the shadows names
Give men freedom, they’ll beg for chains, beg for change“
billy woods | “bedtime”