“PoRceLAin GuN” Lyrics

(Talking) Sweet. Yeah, okay, I do like that one though, yeah, good call.
We’ll come back to that.

Yeah. Okay. Okay.

Been giving this some thought,
And it’s not sitting right.
Years behind me, 29, 
A quite eventful life.
Right place, shiny suits,
A false sense of importance,
An overwhelming praise, mate,
I fill my boots.
Left me feeling only confused and lonely,
Why’s this person crying if I feel so phoney?
Why do I feel like I’ve been sold a lie?
Made to wear a golden tie,
Smiles on the outside, but internally I fold and cry.
Tom, why you got two swollen eyes?
Desperate not to be stuck.
Well, please stop calling me a chicken when I’m clearly a duck!
Quack, quack!

Yes, I know my life has been a fortunate one, 
Still, I’m fragile like a porcelain gun.
Pointless, like torching the sun,
Boom, bang, goes the porcelain gun.
Yes, I know my life has been a fortunate one,
Still, I’m fragile like a porcelain gun.
Pointless, like torching the sun,
Boom, bang, goes the…

And we’re just maniacs,
Don’t you think it’s crazy that we don’t ask about your heart size?
We ask, “How’d you pay for that?”.
I find it funny,
We ask what you do, 
As if I care how you earned your money.
I want to know how you live your life,
Dogs, beer, travel, Netflix,
Anything but your 9 to 5.
Seriously, tell me that you love your family,
Shakespeare, Spielberg, anyone!
You tell me that you need to check your Instagram;
Then I’ve got to run… 

Yes, I know my life has been a fortunate one,
Still, I feel fragile like a porcelain gun.
Pointless, like talking to some,
Boom, bang, goes the porcelain gun.
Yes, I know my life has been a fortunate one,
Still, fragile like a porcelain gun.
Pointless, like torching the sun,
Boom, bang, goes the-, boom, bang, goes the-

(Instrumental)

Now, I’m not one to bitch and moan, my friend, that’s not my style,
But these feelings have been featuring for quite a while,
The best way to get that stress off my chest,
Is to put the thoughts on pages;
I thought a song was best.
I know I’m blessed, mate,
Everyday I freestyle with gratitude,
But sometimes I’m snappy,
Later thinking, ‘mate; that was rude’.
It’s been a while, 29 years to say the least,
And 9 times out of 10,
I’ve found the Beauty; not the Beast.
I found love with a girl that I was working with,
Queen of Queens, mate,
Quite the perfect fit.
Just one of them kind of girls,
So sweet, to eat, like a diamond pearls.

Yes, I know my life has been a fortunate one,
Still, I’m fragile like a porcelain gun.
Pointless, like torching the sun,
Boom, bang, goes the porcelain gun.
Yes, I know my life has been a fortunate one,
Still, I feel fragile like a porcelain gun.
Spoke to your Mum, all goodly done,
This conversation’s been a torturous one, now…