Chase

Song: Chase

Album: Losing The Game

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released May 8, 2008

ref: 

The cloud’s hung low, where the night tied their nooses.

I hung up the phone. “What a sight”, blind confusion.

The news hit like truth upon the clueless,

I threw a fit tryin’ to make use of the useless.

Synonymous to holdin’ a conversation with Ronald Reagan

debatin’ crack and Venezuela.

If I told you that I tried, have to tell you that I lied, 

and hold the hope I was a day you remembered before you died.

Can’t comply with what the time as done as much as write a song,

or as much as any night is wrong to defy the sun.

High-strung as the church bells hung across the street,

risin’ up in the morning every time I hear’em ring.

Y’see, I never thought of such, and never thought of much,

but to sit and watch graffiti bloom at the bus stop.

You’d be the song if these street’s cement could sing, but so it goes.

-

Chorus

So it goes

So it goes

So it

goes

-

It’s comin’ round to losin’ moments and hours

lookin’ up against the rain, tryin’ to turn over clouds,

and you’re nowhere to be found, so I stare the ground

admirin’ how a crack in the sidewalk can hold a flower.

All is lost, the sun confesses a dim bulb,

inertia haults, planets commit to withdrawal,

rivers pause as bridges fall into their arms,

the globe stalls to question if it was designed to revolve.

I can’t depend upon sight when the mind isn’t sure

the weight of an absence, when acceptance isn’t first.

It’s like the curb between the sidewalk and street.

I’m walking it, but I don’t know where it’s taking me.

Chase, are we waiting to leave or waiting to see through

the coincidence we’re all here at the same time as breathing fools,

or just to watch flowers grow from cracked cement?

while my heart substitutes for a bomb ductaped to my chest.

-

Chorus

-

Something to bleed to, speak through, reach to

until they open up the sky

Something to keep to each truth and reason

why I shouldn’t be alive

Some people spend their whole lives runnin’ from nothing

and they don’t know why

People breathe to the music of your voice

It’s the truth, and the soul don’t lie.

Once again, for all it isn’t worth

speaking against the ceiling, holdin’ on to the spinnin’ earth,

constructed outta love, still rennovatin’ the word,

planted where I stand, same pants different shirt.

Couldn’t address a goodbye with a fresh suit and tie

or find a funeral suitable to conclude a life.

It’s sheerly outta bein’ human to give words to it

cos’ most times music is the only place truth fits.

Followin bliss down Franklin’s vein of the city.

If tomorrow’s it, then tonight can bring it.

Put my ear to the cement and I can hear it singin’,

cryin’ out your name, wishing the sky would give it

all back, and so it rains because it can’t.

I see the only places we grow are from where we’re cracked,

as the streets and clouds shout “know me now,

Chase hold me down, Chase hold me down

-

Chorus