Halfway

Song: Halfway

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

Somewhere between the stage
and lobby coffee tables morning bagels,new newspapers,and dayquil, 
remotin’ the cable runnin’ your daydrill
becomes an effort, mission, and quest to keep stable
and for some it’s just a pressin desperate cry to stay still.
Can’t wait till the passin’ storms and title waves spill-
got the hard headed drownin’, denyin’ the pain still.
Remain Chill, my man was swallowin’ his eighth pill. 
To keep sane got his brown eyes melted to glazed hazel.


Brain blazin’, baked and jaded to vegetation
and awakenin’ abrupt hooked up to tubes and cables
from the nasal to the navel in a hospital bed.
Can’t see ya’ runnin’ in ya’ dreams or hear ya’ talk in ya’ head.
Ya’ rock wit it like autism and won’t come off wit it.
You could have a map and compass and still get lost in it,
Straight afraid to taste the cake cos’a how they frosted it, 
so I penetrate the surface to get the raw image


of a stressed out pot full’a water boilin’ hot
on the edge’a the oven ready to jump the stove top.
I’m sittin’ in the cupboard just another tea- cup
hangin’ by the handle while the kitchen heats up.
-
Chorus
Let it go
Feel Good
Get on wit it
And do like ya should
Let it go
Feel Good
Get on wit it
And do like ya should
-
Sometimes I get it right and avoid the bait and tackle,
save the damsel, shoot the super villains, hit the gas and straighten the handles,
dodgin’ bullets and shrapnel, pullin’ through chasin’ after
dangerous master minds full of loud complacent laughter.
Well, I ain’t laughin’, cos’ I don’t believe in heroes for that matter.
There’s just a few people who quit playin for evil to get back at’em.
The fact of it is, the craziest cats were quiet kids
who sat in the back’a class, starin’ out windows and writin’ shit. 


Got used to abuse and ass whoopins at the bus-stop,
bleedin’ on brand new shirts and stepping in ta class fucked up.
I’ve learned that satan has one smile and a few faces…
one of’em I’ve dated and the rest I keep away from
like an undercover agent not too distant or close.
Between your lines, breakin’ down and analyzin’ the prose.
Both ears open, teeth clinched, and one eye closed.
Aimin’ at the subtle with intent to expose.
-
Chorus
-
Conversation
About the rain
It gets a little bit’a redundant
Talkin’ bout the weather’s change, yeah
So what’s the price for ya’ sanity
If it’s in the nature of ya’ daily routine
To keep to yourself and no one else
Sayin’ what ya’ wanna’ say half way