Thick Tongued Blues Th Nov by Joshuafontana

This is a song about the futility of the 27 club, the romanticism of addiction and the stigma of mental illness.

I'm frozen solid by the fear inside of myself
And if silence is golden I breathe midas and little else
Compulsion misbehaved
Shackled and enslaved
And I can't breathe or help myself...I might drown somehow
Words they came so easy for me
Now they feel like worthless trophies
I can hardly lift my hands to reach you
Barely grasp my thoughts to teach you
About these Thick Tongued Blues I can't speak of

Being for the benefit of grace and precision there's a prison right here in my mind
Judge, jury and jailer paid off- I find myself confined
Cornered and attuned
To that old insidious croon
And I can't breathe without some help
Words vacate my mind and leave me
Feeling endless self-pity
And I can't hardly lift my hands to reach you
Barely grasp my thoughts to teach you
About these Thick Tongued Blues I can't speak of

Hardened my heart by will it seems
Shares properties with stone
She s it solid er chicanery
I keep a knife warm by the stove

Maybe I just can't believe the ground swell
Or the rising tide of opinion against myself
Fetched up by the squall
Grasping for the tools
That help me breathe and pronounce myself...A-L-I-V-E
Words they paint a picture pretty
Still I struggle to find the unique in me
But at least I can lift my hands to reach up
At least I can grasp my thoughts to teach you
About these Thick Tongued Blues I speak of.