A time capsule casket closed containing all the words I ever spoke And I wonder if anyone would care enough to dig it up in ten years It's weird to think about: everything pure will eventually be relevant even if the artist isn't here for it You could die as a failure, but future figure because whatever current culture couldn't comprehend it It's a poet's curse And it only gets worse They're only open to your words A.D. like a convertible hearse The most underground artist – the one that is buried in this dirt – has always felt buried under the pressure of the world Because we're all in debt to serve good deeds We're all in debt financially We're in the depths of being destined to die, but we're born to live so we live to leave Because we'd rather be elsewhere Fuck it I'd rather be someone else and I'll leave my environment before I let it define myself I take the landscape-goat that forever defines my fate The freeway leads to the grave It's all down hell from here, unless we're road kill on the way And I chase my dreams because my nightmares chase me and the terror of being forgotten is haunting Often times, I'm left wandering/wondering if the world will ever know? Will I not get a chance or make no change like putting a ghost on death row? I prayed to the eight ball god and all I got was "try again later" But I don't think I will because I fear the word "no" more than my deathbed And I don't like the odds of the future in this being pretend, because they're not in my favor Like five in the chamber to my head playing reverse Russian roulette But what else do I have but to make something shovel worthy? I'm working on zombie words in case the casket comes early They say nothing worth having comes this easy, but having nothing's been the hardest thing to happen to me And it's not about the money; it's about the dream But how bleak the world seems when they're both out of reach and I'm still reaping in the shadows A future bound for the gallows I use to spotlight to pause life and just see the momentary clarity that is me: The confessions of the godless Finding more guidance in a magic eight ball of responses that uses the same illogic Of asking questions we don't want answers to Praying for these things we don't need Planning for a tomorrow even though there's no guarantee but we still sing Here's to hoping Here's to coping Here's to dying on your knees Here's to losing everyone and everything because you cut off your own feet Here's to shoving religion down my throat hoping that I choke But I won't because I can't live or die for something I can't see, for something I just can't see, I can't see, something I can't see, I can't see, something I can't see The sunrise with my eyes I can see today, I can see me And those are the only things that I'll ever believe, because tomorrow I'll feel like a death row ghost again with no role in modern civilization, because making memories is making cemeteries out of us Because if we're underground long enough, then we're dead
Read the complete lyrics to "Eight Ball God" by NowHere from the album "Hell Knows I’m Miserable Now" in 2015. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rock, Spoken Word.
"Eight Ball God" is performed by NowHere. from the album "Hell Knows I’m Miserable Now" in 2015 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"Eight Ball God" is credited to NowHere. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Eight Ball God" appears on "Hell Knows I’m Miserable Now" in 2015.
Visit the NowHere artist page at /artist/nowhere for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
