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No Time to Breathe Cover.jpg
No Time to Breathe was an exploration of spoken word and textural layering of music and guitars

Feeling more disconnected from. The people all around me

It's Saturday night and they're tweeting about someone in strictly

I'm sat alone wondering if there's anyone out there

In the world who would get me and why should I care

Constantly pushing and pulling the wool over my eyes

Don't want to be aware of all the chaos inside

But it's stifling in here crack a window someone please

How mi meant to concentrate surrounded by birds and bees

Tweeting and twerking can no one put the hours in

Back to back wall to wall lost in the flurry and the frenzy

Who I am to say I know I have friends see I'm not used to conquering my own sensibilities I generally crash through life with an unrelenting ease

Not that it's easy or free being me but rather that I'm good with the chaos that comes like the breeze

Don't know how to be still or take a moment to breathe like a true hypocrite I sing about it along with being free

But in actuality the reality is I'm just as lost as the next man who comes lookin for me


You see I'm lost not found

It's not actually profound

I might be saved but do i own my own fate

As I trip and tumble fall through the gaps

I mumble God help me

And its with baited breath I say the words

Figuring my heart is the weight of a feather not a bird

And there's no use connecting up the dots

I'm half arsing it through like a drunk at the slots

But in the winging on a hope and a prayer that there's a reason for me to be creating here

In between the fall out the break downs and burnt out noise

I'm affected by the weaving of lives and love as they're forlorn

And yet an Outsider in all that I see and do

There's a level of content with being alone on the edge of the blue

Abyss it stares back when you stare hard enough 

like a contest of will its a battle for the tough

Land mines ready to wipe you out left right and centre and who's there to catch you when you're blown to smithereens they all run pitter patter the sound of their feet fading into the distance

I've gone off on a tangent but that's just how my brain is

So who is out there is anyone in this boat at sea

Not trawling but just waiting for a moment  to breathe

Not a queen with a new drum to beat out some splendid tune but

A loner on  a bedroom stage made for one or two 

It's like treacle in here there's no way out as we trickle and turn trying figure this shit out

But is anyone out there thinking the same as me it's Saturday night and I'm not sat watching tv

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