lirik lagu clayton jennings - panic attack
“i can’t breathe
no, like seriously, i can’t breathe”
i was 10 the first time it happened to me
and it just happened to be in my bedroom
bunk beds with my brother and not a lot of legroom
i could hear my parents arguing in the next room
an argument about church or something doom and gloom
and all of a sudden my lips turn from red to blue
or at least, it felt like they did
i didn’t know you could have a panic attack as a kid
but i sure did
and i still do now
and you ask me to help you, but i don’t know how
because i’ve asked god to take this and i’ve begged him out loud
and i could be surrounded by a million people but still feel alone in a crowd
so i’m asking these questions out loud
what, like i’m not allowed?
who do i answer to? n0body
depression and anxiety, get off me
this is my life, don’t treat it like a hobby
you do everything you can to try to stop me
popped by a fanatic or popped pills to drop me
hiding away in the attic, this is not me
anxiety when the door knocks
anxiety when the door locks
anxiety when the door stops
anxiety about all of my sins
anxiety my sins aren’t really buried at the bottom of the ocean
anxiety the next door will stay shut when i’m like “open, open, open!”
anxiety is the spell and xanax is the potion
like dry skin and lotion
only this lotion turns off the consequence b~tton in your brain
i’ve popped every pill, benzos are all the same
next thing you know, you and your sins are a ball and chain
and you feel regret for stuff you did and ashamed you didn’t do what you shoulda done
and the cycle continues
and it spun and it spun until you sit there finally sober with a gun
and you’re too much of a coward to do it
or maybe a hero because you pulled through it
or maybe a zero because you blew it
or maybe a hero because you kept your head on your shoulders
maybe you blasted that head because your shoulders are boulders
some day my daughter will listen to this poetry when she’s older
and i’ll have told her, what
no, i’m asking, honestly, what should i tell her?
cat got your tongue? your advice was stellar
i’m asking questions i’ve never asked before
i’m pulling off masks that had never been unmasked before
they call me great but called me trash before
i talk a lot about the other side, christian mack~lemore
don’t call me a christian if that means hating the left
and don’t call me democrat if that means hating the right
just call me by my name with no labels and we’ll get along just fine
because i don’t know your story, and you don’t know mine
and i’d tell you, but that would make me anxious
i’m an artist, sit back while i paint this
bathtub water on drip, mixing water with blood, every drop you pictured it, didn’t you?
it’s too late to stop
i’m sorry if that put you in a box
but welcome to my inbox
a place where i see pics i don’t want to
and i hear stories i wish were untrue
and you’re just like me, and i’m just like you
anxious
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